Trifles
by PcKtmouse
Summary: A collection of one-shots set before, during, and after the movie. Chapter 22: Arrow finds that not everyone is made of stone.
1. Largesse

DISCLAIMER : Treasure Planet, character designs, and additional chars. belong to Disney; original characters belong to R. L. Stevenson.

Reviews appreciated, Flames will be used for toasting marshmallows. My computer cannot quite handle loading system, so any mistakes will not be dealt with immediatly.

* * *

Delbert was vastly inexperienced in the world of romanticizing.

Through the greater part of his life, academia had been his only concern and focus; his interaction with females being limited to Sarah and to his very few – and very _unattractive_ – woman colleagues. Even through High School, he had developed a talent of drifting through the halls, unnoticed by all save for his professors. He had survived his many years scientifically, with reasoning and method, his only lapse in such practice resulting in the fiasco that was Treasure Planet.

And so, he found it completely logical that his first attempt to court Amelia would be an utter failure.

The beautiful captain stood rigidly in front of him; one arm clasped securely behind her back by force of habit, the other in front, revolving slowly as she examined the object grasped in her hand.

"And this is?"

Delbert grinned sheepishly and forced his hands deeper into his large pockets.

"It's a fish…well, a – a betta, I believe, I…I mean I believe that's what the gentleman at the store said…I – I can't quite…"

"A Siamese fighting fish, if I might correct you Doctor."

"Yes! Well…yes, that is another name I….Why did you ask me if you already knew?"

Amelia held the plastic bag at eye level, and a smile formed on her thin, red lips. Delbert suddenly felt as though he would faint. "I was not inquiring about the fish, Doctor, I was curious as to why you were giving it to me."

Delbert's gaze temporarily faltered and fell to the ground; he had not realized until that moment how unusually humid it seemed, or that he was nervously shuffling his feet.

"Hmm…ugh…well, it's a – a gift."

"You're mumbling Doctor."

What lovely woodwork her floor had. "It's a gift."

"_A gift_?"

"Yes, for you."

Delbert chanced to look up, but the felinid's eyes were still focused on the tiny creature swimming leisurely in the flimsy bag, and for a moment he wondered how her perfectly manicured nails managed not to pierce it.

"It's a rather unusual gift, if I don't say so myself." Her emerald gaze revolved and locked onto his black orbs. "What made you think that this would suit me?"

A moment's hesitation, then, "It's green."

Amelia looked genuinely surprised. "It's green?"

"Like your eyes."

The silence that followed was thick and disturbing, like an ominous cloud that signaled the approach of a storm. However, his logical and theorized mind no longer registered the heat or the troublesome silence that hung over them like poisoned air; all the Doctor could do was stare at her staring back. It seemed like ages before he finally found his voice, cowering at the back of his throat.

"So…will….ahh, will you keep it?"

Her gaze had returned to the tiny fish, her face showing no hint of emotion.

"I'll consider it."

* * *

Jim knocked politely before entering, a habit he had forcibly learned very quickly, and called softly through the closed mahogany door. "Captain?" 

"Yes, Mr. Hawkins, come in."

The boy obeyed, opening the heavy door and taking three steps inside the cabin before speaking. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I have these papers for you to review and sign. They are for your application process into the Academy."

"Oh, thanks!" Jim grinned and quickly flipped through the thick stack of papers. "You need them back, then?"

"As soon as possible, if you please."

"No problem, and thank you again by the way….This, this means a lot." Jim's eyes scanned over the ever-tidy cabin, suddenly uncomfortable by the almost too friendly air in the cramped room. His gaze fell on a glass dome that protectively held the late Mr. Arrows hat – it was still disconcerting for the young man to look at this particular article – and next to it on a small counter…..

…… '_Is that a fish tank?'_

"That is all Mr. Hawkins, your excused."

Jim snapped back to reality under Amelia's cool gaze; a slightly nervous laugh and he was tracing his steps back to the door.

"Heh, sorry." Half his body was in the hallway. "I'll get these to you soon….see ya."

Jim closed the door before his smile could etch across his face. He would have to report to the Doc as soon as he returned home; not only about the fact that his gift hadn't been swiftly rejected, but also that it had received a place of honor next to her sole reminder of her former first mate.

Maybe, _just maybe_, he wasn't such a failure after all.


	2. Milestone

DISCLAIMER : I do not own Treasure Planet. It is the love child of Disney and R. L. Stevenson

* * *

If it was anybody else, Silver wouldn't have put up with it. He shouldn't of even attempted to now – he was far to old, and had to less energy to burden himself with the oversee of the mischievous recreant that was Jim Hawkins.

The boy sat in front of him, perched on a wooden bench in the galley; head hung so low that his dark bangs shadowed his face, and the cyborg had to snap his fingers at him to make sure the rascal was paying attention to his lecture.

The same lecture he had given the boy again.

_And again._

"One day lad, ye had jus' one day ta go wit'out gettin' in ta trouble, and ya can' even do tha' one simple task! If the Cap'n knew ye were fightin'…Ya know she came ta me an' asked if ye shoul' be given shore leave!? An' by the powers, I tol' her 'yes'! I though' ye'd listen when I tol' ya, 'pick yer fights!' Ye get outta me sight for less than a day, an' yer gettin' yerself inta fights with the first man tha' looks at ye bad!"

In all honestly, he didn't know why he bothered with the speeches. Trying to reason with Jim was like singing to a deaf man; the words went in one ear and out the other, with no regard to what was passing through. A bit of time in the brig, like Mr. Arrow promised, might actually do the thick headed boy some good. He just didn't have the energy for this.

Silver sighed and pressed his organic fingers to his pulsing temple, regarding the boy with a calculating stare. "Give me one reason, Jimbo, jus' one reason why I shouldn' go righ' now to the Cap'n and tell her 'bout this fight o' yers. Why I shouldn' let them toss ya in the brig like ye dese've."

For a moment, the boy didn't answer, and Silver was about to ask if the boy had even heard him; but then slowly his head tilted back, brown bangs falling away to reveal a purple bruise on the underside of his jaw, and a cheshire grin spread along his defiant, youthful face.

" 'Cause I won."

Silver wasn't prepared for the thundering laughter that erupted from his chest, bouncing off the galley walls until they bore down on him and the cyborg collapsed on the bench beside the boy, clutching his sides and tousling Jim's hair.

Silver never told.


	3. Tribulation

DISCLAIMER : Treasure Planet belongs to Disney and R. L. Stevenson. Which parts belong to who, you can figure out.

* * *

Jim Hawkins was not a cold person. He had compassion and warmth that was rare in young men, and while he rarely openly portrayed them, he thought of himself as a genuinely kind person. And in most aspects, he was just that: a compassionate, warmhearted, kind young man.

But he had a _goddamn line._

"_Jimmy!!_ Hey Jimmy! Where are we going today Jimmy, old buddy, old pal"?!

Jim sighed and rubbed his aching forehead. The eccentric robot had literally been following the young man for the past week since returning to Montressor; and while Jim was trying his damndest to be pleasant to his adopted metal shadow – as instructed by his mother - B.E.N.'s constant jabbering was wearing on his last nerve.

"_I_ have to go to town." The simple sentence made the robots bright blue optics shine even more. "I'm just going to go hook up Delilah and get going…" B.E.N. had recently suffered a violent kick from the usually good natured carriage-puller, and Jim hoped that the mention of her name would keep the robot from following.

But today, B.E.N. was especially persistent.

"To town?! That's great Jimmy! Ya know, have I told you Jimmy that I – I just _love_ little towns like yours, 'cause…'cause they're so cute in their town-y ways; and I can't get enough of 'em! But – well, I could never spend much time in them because Flint! Oh, Flint hated spending time in one place, ya know, let alone little towns, so he _never_…."

"B.E.N.", Jim's tone echoed his strained nerves, "I don't know how you managed to survive so long without someone to talk to those hundred years. _Seriously_."

B.E.N. laughed, squeaky gears rubbing against chipped metal.

"Well, really Jimmy, surviving wasn't the hard part, I mean, there were hundreds – _millions_ – of machines to get oil from - not the good kind low fat kind of course; but ya know, the hard thing was making friends."

"Friends?"

"Yeah! See, there were these snooty puffer birds; they weren't the nicest at first – I think some kind of personality swings - they tried pecking my eyes out when I first met them, but lucky for me", B.E.N. grinned and tapped his glass eyepiece with a long index finger, "but soon we all got to be friends! I would visit them everyday and talk to them forever and ever, and they never talked back, but they listened to me! And I …...well, I - I guess they're all gone now….."

Jim paused as B.E.N. grew quite and turned to see the sullen robot eyeing the ground, gently kicking a rock with his metal foot. He seemed to be concentrating on nothing, and his pixilated eyes were scrunched in silent strain – was B.E.N. trying to cry?

"Ya know Jimmy, I don't – I don't think I wanna go to town anymore…..I'll…I'll see ya later, pal." And with that, B.E.N. turned and slowly began his long walk back up to the Doppler mansion.

Jim's brow furrowed and the boy didn't even stop to consider his actions before yelling "Hey, B.E.N.!"

The robot turned half-heartedly, the embodiment of grief. "Yah, Jimmy?"

"Why don't you come with me? I could really use the, um…your company."

For a moment, hesitation hovered over his friend before a beaming smile broke through the aura of gloom.

"Ya mean it!?"

Jim laughed and motioned for him to follow, "Yeah, come on, I'll show you around when we get there."

A shrill laugh escaped the ecstatic robot, and before Jim knew it, B.E.N.'s ragged frame was wrapped tightly around his, effectively cutting off his air supply.

"Thanks Jimmy, you're a real pal – the best pal ever! Ya know, have I told you Jimmy that I – I just _love_ little towns!"


	4. Fortress JS

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Treasure Planet, or anything really, except for the clothes on my back.

This chapter features a Jim/Silver relationship; so if it happens that you don't particularly care for this pairing, well, move on then.

* * *

Jim knew he shouldn't have disturbed the assortment of folded clothes neatly placed at the foot of the bed. Not only were the clothes not his – they were in fact Silver's and had recently been put there by the older man after washing and letting them dry in the sun; but Jim was also still dripping wet from the shower he had just finished. However, the young man could feel the fresh warmth radiating off the stack of clothing; and his weakness of what he knew to do, against what he _wanted_ to do was too great.

And that was why Jim, clad only in his boxers and his hair still considerably damp, was snuggled underneath the outstretched mound of Silver's once-clean laundry.

He had just found a comfortable position in which to lay in, when the cyborg's heavy footsteps sounded down the hall, growing closer with each uneven step. Jim waited patiently until the sound stopped falling, and Silver distinctly cleared his throat before opening his eyes. His lover stood in the doorway, one large hand placed on his hip irritably, and his mechanical fist holding a wicker basket.

Jim smiled at the dumbfounded look on the older man's face. "What's up?"

"W'at in blazes are ye doin' lad?"

Jim laughed and twisted slightly underneath his thread canopy. "They were still warm, I couldn't help it." The young man smiled lazily as Silver made his way over to the side of the bed and deposited the basket next to him, still warily scrutinizing him.

'T'ose were all folded, ya know."

Jim scoffed and turned over on the bed to face him. "See, now you're sounding like my mom."

Silver chuckled. "Well, at leas' one of us does; we bot' can't be actin' like little daft pups, can we now?" The cyborg dipped his hand into the basket, and then suddenly turned back to Jim, one heavy eyebrow arched playfully. "Yer not naked under t'ere are ya?"

"Wouldn't you like that; but no." Another deep chuckle, and Silver raised a tattered shirt into Jim's view; the boy's blue eyes shined. "Are those clothes dry too?"

"Don' even t'ink it, Jimbo."

Jim laughed and reached out to capture Silver's organic hand in his own, and pressed it against the side of his face. "Why don't you cover up with me?"

"Under a pile o' me own skivvies? No."

"Come on you old scallywag", Jim persistently pulled on the man's hand; "Just take a quick breather – five minutes. Please?" The young man smiled imploringly and Silver sighed in defeat.

"W'at do ye want me ta do?"

Jim beamed. "Just lay down on your back."

Silver obeyed and lay flat on his backside, his face level to Jim's. The cyborg craned his neck to the side to survey Jim. "W'at now?"

Jim leaned over Silver's body, softly laughing as the man's mechanical fingers brushed his stomach, and clutched the heavy basket with his hands. A swift turn of his wrists, and the balmy clothing cascaded over them; the young man quickly set to rearranging them, and soon both he and Silver were cocooned in a thermal blanket of laundry.

Silver snorted. "Yer an odd one, Jimbo, ya know t'at?"

"Shut up", Jim snarled kindly, "You're enjoying this." He squirmed closer to Silver's side until he was pressed against the older man's body. Jim sighed contentedly and nuzzled his head into the crook of Silver's organic arm, as the man's powerful hand rested on his slim waist. It was uncomfortably warm; but the feeling of Silver's arm holding him so protectively, and the faint beat of his heart felt too sensational to simply pull away. The boy's eyes grew increasingly heavy, until finally he closed them, only to be gently jostled by his partner.

"Don' ye fall asleep, lad."

"I'm not", Jim whispered into the man's chest, "I promise I'm not….."

Silver watched as Jim drifted unceremoniously into sleep underneath their tent of (technically_ his_) clothes. The cyborg had several tasks to do before the day ended; he didn't have the time to nap, but it _was_ delightfully warm, and - even though he knew his arm was sure to go numb - he didn't want to move the beautiful boy.

Moving carefully so as not to disturb the fragile barrier around them, Silver leaned down and pressed his lips to his little lover's forehead. A small mewl issued from the younger man, and the cyborg couldn't resist the smile that etched itself across his face.

"Yer already asleep, aren't ya?"

There was no answer, and Silver chuckled softly before closing his eyes and abandoning himself to sleep as well.

* * *

A/N : I just want to know, does anybody else cuddle with the clothes from their dryer? Or is it just me? Also, my apologies if I am inconsistent with Silver's ahem unique accent.

SameliaX : Thank you for enjoying my story so much; unfortunately, D/A is my most difficult subject to write, but I will defiantly try to include it in my next update(s).

My regards to Jik-not-Jim-Jik.

Nikchik : Thank you for the positive review, and the all caps LOL. For some reason, that made me all tingly inside.


	5. Contentment

DISCLAIMER – How many other ways can I tell you I don't own Treasure Planet?

I realized that I have yet to do any stories about Sarah, and I decided to remedy that. In my opinion, she is one of the hardest characters to write, but then again, it's not her fault for having so little screen time.

* * *

Sarah sighed contentedly and gently leaned back against the southern wall of the Doppler mansion, gazing out at the cobblestone road that led back to the ruins of the Benbow Inn. Although she couldn't see the blackened scar of earth that was her previous home and livelihood, she knew instinctively where her modest domicile now lay literally in ashes.

But then, that was the old Benbow.

Because even now, as she rested against the marble foundation, Jim was in town securing the materials necessary for building their new home – and new life. Sarah felt as though, finally, things were starting to fall into place: she would have her inn back – 'a hundred times over', Jim had promised – but even greater was the distinct change in her son. For once, the dark that had been pulled over Jim by his father's abandonment had been lifted, and he was the smiling, happy boy Sarah had longed to see for nearly eight years.

Finally, everything was…..right.

And so, when a loud crash resounded from inside, and B.E.N. poked his head out of the partially opened door -quickly followed by a thick plume of black smoke- and reassured her that '_Don't worry Miss H., I can fix it!'_ Sarah didn't ask for clarification.

* * *


	6. Theatrics

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. I did have Ramen, but then I eatzd it.

First of all, this chapter is quite _lengthy_. ;; It was written mostly for SameliaX, since she obviously has a fondness for DxA, and she also assited me in with my formating disability. I just hope I haven't completely dissapointed you. I'm ashamed to admit that I did not fully inspect this chapter, so any reported mistakes will be appreciated, unless they're just stupid. Partially inspired by a German movie name In Juli. Very funny, very attractive leading male actor.  
Oh, and Miles is an original character picked out of thin air, and an Erethnid resembles a porcupine. ( _Erethizontidae_, get it?)

* * *

The establishment was difficult to classify, even for an educated and competent mind such as Amelia's. It did not possess the elaborate air of a sophisticated lounge; and yet it was also not shoddy enough to constitute any raunchy drunkards – for which she was entirely grateful. It seemed to have settled unto a comfortable median between the two, and honestly, that was the sole reason that she had chosen this particular location for tonight's excursions. She didn't want there to exist any unnecessary difficulty on her first date with Delbert Doppler.

If one could even label it a date.

Which was, in Amelia's mind, completely and utterly inaccurate.

'_A date_', she thought sourly to herself, _'is a social appointment based on romantic intentions'_. And yet, the moment that the two had stepped through the threshold Delbert had become thoroughly comatose; the man merely peered down at his plate, offering only fragments of conversation when forced to reply. Amelia had known beforehand of the doctor's excessive shyness, but her patience had their limits, and they were being tested to their full extent. After innumerable attempts to coax Delbert from his reclusive shell, Amelia had finally stated that she 'fancied a trip to the bar' and retreated.

That had been over twenty minutes ago, and Amelia was unsure of whether or not Delbert had even registered her absence.

The beautiful felinid sighed and traced the rim of her half-empty glass of Sauvignon Blanc; quickly stealing a sidelong glance at her wayward companion. Delbert was right where she had left him, blankly staring at the tabletop and chasing his food with his fork. The scene would have been adorable if she weren't so _miserable._

Amelia's ears elevated at the sound of wood scraping wood, and the captain turned her gaze away from Delbert to her opposite side; a man had taken the seat next to her. He smiled at her notice of him, and his eyes were friendly.

"Would it inconvenience you at all if I took a seat next to you?"

For once, Amelia was caught off guard, and hesitated momentarily before swiveling her head around; intent on gauging Delbert's reaction to her speaking with another man. It appeared as though the Canid hadn't even noticed. Slightly put off, Amelia turned back to the stranger and motioned for him to sit.

"Not at all."

"Thank you", he replied courteously; as he sat, Amelia quickly stole another fleeting look at Delbert – still nothing! Maybe a bit of coquetry behavior would entice the good doctor to notice her. The captain surveyed the man at her right; he was an Erethnid, brown hair cropped short with eyes that matched, and he appeared to be a few years her elder. He was unmistakably handsome and – _'Cripes, he's talking!'_

"…ask your name?"

"Amelia", she responded automatically, "Amelia Smollett."

"Amelia", another beaming smile, and his eyes shined, "A beautiful name."

"How kind of you", despite the smile on her face, she was struggling to suppress her urge to thwart his advances, "But I am afraid that this introduction is one-sided."

"My apologies. My name is Miles Trinidad the Third." He offered his hand, Amelia had no choice but to accept it, and immediately Miles pressed her gloved hand to his lips.

Delbert didn't move. _'Blast that man!'_

"If I'm not being to forward Miss Amelia, may I have the pleasure of buying you a drink?"

Amelia faltered; her devious attempts to rile Delbert had failed altogether, and to lead the man any further on would be too irresponsible for her taste. "Unfortunately, Miles, I regret to inform you that I am actually accompanying another man tonight."

Miles looked taken aback, but a moment later his smile returned in full. "My my, that is a bit of bad luck for me. Might I ask which lucky gentleman has your honor this evening?"

Her powdered face flushed unexpectedly, _'Am I ashamed?'_, but she turned and indicated Delbert – whom, to her dismay still sat oblivious to her – with her hand. "Him."

The confused expression returned to his weathered face, and this time there was no smile to break it. "I don't intend to sound rude, but if he is so willing to leave you to other men, he doesn't seem very compelled to keep your company."

_Finally._ Somebody had voiced Amelia's concealed thoughts – and it had taken a stranger to bring them to light.

"Yes", Amelia breathed heavily, "Well, in complete honesty, I wish he would be more compelled."

The two sat in an awkward silence; surrounded by the rackety music of the band and voices of the other patrons, save for Delbert whose voice was the only one that the felinid desired to hear.

Instead, she heard Miles, "Would you care to dance?"

"I hardly think that would be appropriate."

Miles chuckled, and for once there was no warmth in his tone. "He won't even notice." And before Amelia could object, his strong arm wrapped around her waist, and she found herself in the middle of the floor being led to and fro by a powerful hand.

A growl escaped her throat, "I detest dancing Miles", a lie, "and I clearly remember informing you that I am with somebody."

"Someone who hasn't given you a moment's attention all night." He smiled and it was considerably darker than what Amelia remembered. "Besides, you would hardly have been throwing yourself at me so desperately if you didn't want this."

"What in God's name are you…?" But before Amelia could finish her question, Miles' hand leaped from its position on her back and came to rest directly on her inner thigh. An outraged snarl tore from behind her gnashed fangs, and Amelia kicked out with surprising strength; but Miles was quick and expertly avoided the blow, increasing his grip on her.

One of the patrons was glaring at Miles hotly, "Hey you son-of-a-bitch, what are you…?"

"You just stay the Hell out of this." Miles spat, and twirled Amelia around before clasping back onto her. "This is none of your business."

The felinid felt an unfamiliar sensation coursing through her body; it was neither joy, nor lust, nor bewilderment, but was a strange combination of everything she had ever felt in her life. Suddenly, a memory flashed before her; an explosion dangerously close, a sharp pain, and the feeling of isolation, and Amelia realized – she was terrified.

"_**Delbert!**__"_

The next precious moments were an obscure blur, but Amelia was vaguely aware of three rapidly consecutive events. An object flew alongside Amelia's right ear, Miles' head snapped back with a sickening crack, and she felt herself lifted up and out of his reach to safety.

Doctor Delbert Doppler stood rigidly behind her, one hand clasped protectively around her waist, while the other was smeared with blood – Miles' blood, for it was his fist that Amelia had felt brush her ear, mere moments before colliding fiercely with her offender's sensitive nose. His gaze was as smoldering as the sun, and the generally peaceful man was directing his rage onto Miles like a curse.

"Get behind me, Amelia."

The habitually dominant captain moved to obey, not failing to notice the way his hand lingered on her abdomen possessively, and that his usual nervous stutter had disappeared. Miles was slumped against the table Delbert had propelled him into, one hand cradling his crimson nose. Amelia glowered at her once amiable companion from over Delbert's shoulder, watching intently as Miles' glazed eyes met her piercing emerald gaze when suddenly –

He_ winked _at her.

Amelia was astonished; not even a strike to the face could falter this man's egotism. However, as she gazed down at his crumpled form, Amelia couldn't help but notice the smile on his face that sang of forgoing or the glimmer in his eyes as though the two of them were sharing a secret joke….

…._Oh…._

The felinid barely had time to mouth the words '_thank you_' before Delbert gently gripped her shoulder, and Amelia found herself being led a second time that night; this time out the front door. All through the ride home Delbert's arm never left her waist; and fighting against his returning stutter he promised to Amelia that he would make everything up t-t-to her – and would she p-please give him another chance – and t-t-that he had never felt t-this way before with anyone – and she was the most p-precious person in his life – and…..

And now, lying underneath Delbert's comforter, with the doctor pressed against her side – Amelia confessed that it was a_ marvelous_ first date.

* * *

If you read this entire thing, congrats to you. And always, love to my reviewers. 3 If you guys have any requests ( except for DxA stories, Samelia is all over that) let me know. 


	7. Companion

Disclaimer: Honestly, you should know by now.

First of all, I know that two out of my three reviewers (luv you guys) specifically asked for a Jim/B.E.N./Morph random comedy chapter; however, some troubling events in my life have temporarily severed my comedy wire. It is being written though, so despair not. Anyway, one of my favorite relationships in the movie is the friendship of Morph and Silver. I don't think I portrayed enough emotions in this particular fic, and it's definitely not my best; but like I said this has been a stressful time and therefore the story is a bit stressed as well.

* * *

The civil war on Protus One had spread. 

Carriage after carriage passed by Silver, apparently escaping the destruction that had arrived just before him. The people that peered out at him with hollow eyes offered nor asked for assistance from him; but merely filtered by with crestfallen faces. He couldn't blame them for bypassing him; standing at over six feet tall with muscles (and belly) plenty, Silver radiated brute strength. The fact that his right limbs: arm, leg, ear, and eye, had been replaced by mechanical surrogates also seemed to discourage them. Finally, after a procession of suspicious glances, the last carriage crept past and the cyborg found himself on the brink of a natural hollow in the land.

Silver's mechanical eye surveyed the wreckage before him. The valley that had once hosted a blooming township now lay in rubble; the thick smell of smoldering wood and flesh still lingered and assaulted his nose. The cyborg snorted and carefully lumbered down the steep incline to the edge of the desecrated city.

The ground shifted easily beneath his uneven steps, and more than once he nearly lost his balance all together. Silver traveled into the center of the town before discovering a building halfway recognizable – it was the remains of the town hall. The metal plated door leaned haphazardly on one hinge, and the pirate knew instantly that it had already been plundered for all its worth.

"Damn waste." He growled, before turning back to retrace his path.

"Damn waste! Damn waste!"

Silver turned sharply, his black coat flapping widely behind him. "Who's t'ere!?"

"There! There!"

A flash of _something_ flew along his right side; the cyborg reacted instantly, pivoting on his metal leg and interchanging his hand for a sturdy pistol, raising the weapon to face whatever apparition haunted him….

…and saw _pink._

Silver blinked, once, twice, but the creature before him was no ghost or hallucination. It was a…._'W'at in blazes is it?'_….He wasn't even sure. Whatever it was, it was small, no bigger than the palm of his hand, gelatinous, pink, and was admiring its own reflection in the cyborg's alloy arm.

"W'at are ye?" Silver reached for the hovering blob, only to have the liquid-like creature break apart and shift over his organic hand; like oil poured from a bottle. It giggled and barrel-rolled in the air, circling the large man and examining him with large, white eyes.

Silver felt his patience beginning to dwindle. "I don' 'ave time for t'is." And he pushed forward; aware of the wide eyes following him.

"Time for this! Time for this!"

He felt the small weight press against his tricorn and he roughly shook his head. "Quite te copycat aren't ya."

"Copycat! Copycat!"

"Lil' brat."

"Lil' brat! Lil' brat!"

Silver snarled and turned – again – only to see the blob fly into his coat pocket. "Oh no ye don'! Out!" There was no mimicry this time; only a small whimper that filtered from his tattered pocket. _"Now!"_

Still the tiny creature didn't move. Silver boldly thrust his organic hand into the small space and wrapped his fingers around the shifty form, which, to his surprise, didn't melt through his fingers like before. The cyborg raised his clenched hand to eye level before uncoiling his large fingers to reveal the now timid pink creature resting in his palm. "I don' know w'at ye got runnin' in t'at brain o' yer's, but ye ain't goin' now'eres wit' me."

"With you."

"_No."_ Silver's mechanical eye shifted to a threatening orange, but the blob didn't even so much as flinch. "I didn' come 'ere to play dad to no los' pet."

"Dad."

The cyborg faltered. "Aren't ya afraid of me?"

The creature cooed and drifted from Silver's palm to the side of his face and _licked_ him. A wave of disgust rose up in the cyborg until he felt the cool, gelatinous body affectionately rub against his cheek before sliding down to rest on his shoulder. Silver turned to gaze at the pink splot contrasted against his black coat, before hesitantly raising his mechanical index finger to stroke the mimicker. "Ye jus' don' wanna be alone, do ya?"

The creature didn't cringe away from Silver's cold touch, but instead leaned into his silicon fingertip and purred. Silver allowed a small smile to form on his face. How odd that such a loving pet would be abandoned so quickly, and even more that it would so adamantly accept a new owner – no matter how terrifying they were. That was survival, he figured.

Or maybe the little creature simply wasn't capable of judgment.

Silver huffed and gently scooped the… – his pet – …up and replaced him (or was it her?) back into his pocket. "Now, don' ye go an get comfy. T'e firs' person we see is goin' to be t'e one ta take ye off me hands. Got it?" There was no response, and Silver lightly flicked the occupied pocket. "Ye got it?"

"Got it."

Silver smiled and, taking one last look at the forsaken town, began his trek back up the valley.

The cyborg came upon many refugees that day, but when faced with their wary, distrustful faces and their quiet murmurings behind his back, he couldn't bring himself to disturb the sleeping creature.

After all, beggars can't be chosers.

* * *

Catch the Sailor Moon reference and get a cookie. And no, Silver is not going to discover that Morph is a ….morph until later. I might file that away and use it as a comedy later. 

Also, I'm not sure if 'Protus' is spelled right, but I don't really care enough to dig for my dvd and double check.

It can b time 4 hugs now, plse?


	8. Recrudescence

Disclaimer: Nothing except Georgy is mine.

Quick update; I thought of this idea at about 1 am and didn't develop it much after my initial thought. I always though it would make a unique concept, however.

So, anyway, enjoy.

* * *

"'Ello? 'Ello?! Chan aneevone hear me?! Vlast!" The CB receiver crashed onto the rugged desk, only to be sent toppling over the edge with another enraged hit, dangling perilously in mid-air by its twisted cord. Georgy brought his reptilian fist down upon the base, "Eediotic piece ov shit!!" A quick frequency adjustment, and the hanging mouthpiece was brought up, "Ees aneevone there?"

Nothing but white static answered him. The crackling noise had been his receiver for the past three weeks, ever since that damn star had gone Supernova. Georgy had not even considered altering his course, a Supernova was no problem to an experienced fisher, until the last call had been received – that the Supernova had collapsed into a black hole!

Ever since then, Georgy had been unable to contact anyone on his CB. The crawbird harvester was so off his usual course, his maps didn't even have his current position charted.

It also didn't help that the company provided maps were _sixty-five years old._

"Eh quit", he muttered harshly, shifting through the useless pile of charts on his desk, "No mor' vor Georgy…I vinish vith this! Eh am old man! Old man no do shuch vork." He would have to climb to the ship's crows nest and readjust the metal antennae – after hauling in that days catch. Grumbling darkly, the aged man climbed the stairs to the deck, making his way to the side where expertly tied ropes kept the drift nets securely in place.

Muscles pulsed as the reptilian pulled the tethers in, hand over hand. "Von last time…vhen I vinished vorever." The net squirmed with captured crawbirds and Georgy reached over the railing, securing his hands in the bindings and successfully pulling half of the net onto the deck. "I go var away, haf vacation, and…"

Georgy gasped; his throat tightly clenched in a vice like grip as he was lifted up and off his feet. A gaunt figure rose from the mass of writhing crawbirds, slashing the net away and pulling Georgy even further into the air, hands desperately clawing the pincer around his neck.

"…Where…am I?"

The poor man rasped and gulped for air as the pressure in his lungs increased. "Vhat..gasp..vhat do vou vant?" The grip tightened instantly; bright yellow eyes burned into him.

"I don't repeat messsself. Ye have one lassst chance te answer."

Spots flashed before Georgy's eyes, his vision quickly fading into blackness. "Eh…Eh don't kno'…ack..charts no good…gasp…lost…." Suddenly the force was gone, dropping Georgy hard on his ass while he squirmed for air. The red and black spider stood above him, coldly regarding the pathetic man struggling to catch his breath. Georgy felt his thin ponytail grasped and yanked, forcing his head backwards.

"Gah!!"

"Lisssten to me, and lisssten well. Ye're gonna do as me sssayss – exactly as me ssaysss – or I'll ssslit yer throat and leave ya ta bleed in t'at net o' yers." The arachnid emphasized his point by pressing his sharp claw underneath Georgy's chin next to his pulsing jugular.

The terrified man nodded hastily. "Ja! Ja! You'r da voss!" To his horror, the pressure against his neck increased, forcing the man to his wobbly feet. His captor lowered himself so that Georgy was staring him in his wide eyes.

"Firsssst, git to te helm."

"Vut – Vut sir, Eh don't know..Ah!" The claw returned to its position around his neck.

"_I_ know te way. An' af'er t'at, ye'l lead usss."

"Ugh…gasp…Ta vere, captin?" The alien smiled and Georgy was sure that one of his hearts stopped beating.

"Ye learn fassst. T'at'sss good. But I'll only be tellin' ya t'at w'en ye needsss to know. Fer now…" Georgy was pushed away towards the wheel. "Git, an' wait for me command."

Georgy staggered away. "Ves, captin." He gripped the rough wheel with his trembling hands and stared and the back of his new, terrifying captain standing amidst the flopping crawbirds.

The vacation would have to wait.

* * *

If you can't figure out from context who the character is, either I have failed, or you have. (Hopefully you.) Originally, Georgy was supposed to die, but I thought it would be too funny for Scroop to have a Russian lacky; since I might delve more into this.


	9. Attainment

Written to celebrate the first real cold weather of my region. Hoorah? I wrote this specifically to be taken as either a father/son fic, or a slash J/S, whichever is personally preferred.

all characters (c) Disney/RLS

Sorry for any inconsistencies with Silver's accent, but really, its hard to pay attention with so many red wavy lines. His accent makes microsoft word go apeshit. D:

* * *

Jim's wiry body shook as he continued to wash his secluded area of the deck; the water clung to the front of his body and bit the young man so hard that he ground his teeth to dull the pain. That morning, the Legacy had been completely engulfed in a strange cold front, plummeting the temperature by at least forty degrees in less than half a day. The cabin boy had been ordered to give the deck a thorough scrubbing, and despite the monstrous change in weather he had been determined to carry out his orders. The cold had not even bothered him that much – not until Scroop had passed by and decided to try and provoke the young boy by dousing Jim's front torso with water from his own bucket. Now, Jim couldn't even move his arm without being reminded of the cold surrounding him.

The mismatched footsteps that he had been waiting to hear for so long echoed over the unyielding wood and Jim looked over his shoulder to see Silver standing over him.

"Get up lad", his voice rumbled and he motioned for Jim to stand, "ye don' need ta be doin' t'at now."

"O-okay." _'Thank god.'_ Jim was not about to refuse. After a week of hard labor – and being dictated over by Silver – the boys' muscles and spirit were thoroughly bruised.

Jim forced himself up to his feet, aware of Silver's eyes roaming over his trembling body. "Ye shoul'nt be out 'ere when it's t'is cold." The cyborg gazed at him in scrutiny. "Wha' happened ta ya? T'eres more water in yer clot'es t'an on te deck."

"Heh, just a l-little accident with the bucket." The look of skepticism on the older mans' face didn't go unnoticed, but Jim hardly cared whether Silver believed him or not. He wasn't out to make friends; especially not with the suspiciously eccentric cook.

Silver huffed, expelling a cloud of crystallized air. "Cap'in said t'eres a blown generator somewhe's. We won' be outta tis cold till tomorrow, and it's only gonna get worse till t'en – an' fast."

"Per-perfect." Jim snarled, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, the friction scarcely releasing any warmth into his chilled body.

He heard the man's heavy body shift back towards the galley. "Pack up an' get yerself down in te billet."

Jim was surprised; he was done with only half of the deck, at best. "But I'm not done yet." He heard Silver chuckle and something whispered under the older man's breath; the cyborg didn't even bother to turn and face Jim.

"I'm finishing the deck", Jim continued, surprise quickly turning to anger.

That certainly got his attention. Silver glanced over his shoulder and Jim tried his best to look steadfast – which was difficult with his waterlogged clothes. "I tol' ya ta get below deck, Jimbo."

"I don't care", Jim retorted, "I'm finishing. _Then_ I'll go below deck – _when I'm done_." He said the last words with emphasis, as though they were each a separate sentence.

Silver was fully turned now; a look of subtle rage on his face as he stalked closer – he was not used to being so overtly disobeyed. "T'ats an order, boy!"

"I don't need your damn pity!" Jim snarled, Silver was a mere foot away and he had to crane his neck back to glare into his mismatched eyes, "I'm not some glass doll you have to keep from getting broken, I can pull my own weight just like everyone else!"

Silver began to speak but before the words escaped the man's mouth snapped closed. Jim watched as the anger melted off his fat face to be replaced with the sly look that he distrusted. "Well Jimbo, seein' as how yer so gutsy 'bout yerself, an' ye seem set on finishin', I ain't got no means ta change yer mind."

Jim didn't relax; that had been too easy, and judging by the devious way Silver stroked his chin the cyborg had no intention of 'doing Jim any favors.'

"So…" He continued, "Ye can finish wit' te deck, an' after t'at ye can start on _me own_ work in te galley."

Jim's jaw fell. "What!?"

"Everythin' startin' from te oven down to te last spoon bet'er be scrubbed clean " Silver growled, poking Jim in the chest with a large finger, "By te time I make me first round, or it'll be yer hide!"

"That's not fair!" Jim cried as he sidestepped away from the insistent finger. "I – " He stopped, realizing he was about to admit he couldn't do it; not in this cold, dripping wet and weak as he was. But the look of subtle triumph on Silver's face made him clench his jaw. "I'll do it."

For once, Silver seemed generally surprised. "I'll finish everything you said before you wake up. Before you have your first dream, I'll have the whole galley spotless!" He added quickly.

The man chuckled and turned his back on Jim. "Best of luck ta ye, lad. I'm a fast sleeper, so ye best get started!"

Jim waited, blood boiling, until Silver's large body disappeared into the sleeping quarters before dropping to his knees and vigorously returning to his scrubbing.

* * *

Silver hadn't been lying when he said the temperature would quickly drop. Only half an hour after Jim had made his preposterous claim the teen began to notice the crystals developing on his hair and the bristles on his scrubbing brush. Fifteen minutes later, he was scooping layers of ice out of the little remaining water in his bucket.

The cold was borderline unbearable. He didn't know how long it took him to finish the deck – it felt like years – but when the last inch of floor had been cleaned he couldn't find the strength to stand. Something was wrong; his mind was sluggish and warped, and each breath hurt his chest from the inside and out. Somehow he managed to straighten his frozen legs, only to realize he had momentarily forgotten how to walk.

The awkward hobble to the galley took longer than it did to clean the deck, or that was how it felt to Jim. The stairs took an eternity. It was like a dream when Jim reached the towering pile of dinnerware and began robotically cleaning.

The walls of the galley stabilized the temperature just enough for Jim to grasp his remaining sanity. But all he could think of was the cold; the horrible stinging of his lungs, the clothes that had frozen to him and would surely have to be _cut_ off. With trembling hands he heavily lifted an iron pot and placed it on the counter above him.

Even years later, Jim wouldn't be sure as to what happened. Maybe he hadn't placed the ironware securely enough on the counter top, or maybe his quaking body shook it over the edge. He would never know anything except the sudden pain in his shoulder and the deafening crack as he hit the floor. Jim mewled in pain and struggled to stand as his mind shut down. It was so cold…he just wanted to sleep. The floor suddenly felt inviting, even the offending pot pressing on his back felt somehow comforting. His legs found his chest, and Jim slept.

* * *

To his surprise, sleep was not as easy to come by as Silver thought. He lay in the too small hammock surrounded by his snoring crewmates, wishing he could share in their slumber euphoria. But his mind was on Jim – the strange, enraging, yet unique and determined young man Silver had left on the deck. Despite his best efforts, traitorous thoughts of Jim's well-being crept into his head; even in the company of so many – and having such a broad body – the blistering cold was still evident. And if it was enough to disturb Silver, the delicately designed Jim would be… Blast it, why did he have to lose his temper to the boy. If he fell sick, Silver would be responsible and the Captain would question his already questionable character.

Silver sighed and ceremoniously checked Jim's hammock – still empty – and then his pocket watch for the tenth time that night. Six hours had passed since he had left Jim with the heavy task load. Even a boy as wet behind the ears as Jim would be done by now. After making sure all of his secret crew were truly asleep, especially Scroop, Silver heaved himself over the edge of the canvas hammock and onto his feet, pulling his large coat with him. He heard a disgruntled chirp from inside the pocket, and Morph, his translucent pet, flew from the warm haven into the cold air.

Silver grinned. "Sorry, Morphy. I jus' gotta check on somet'in. Git yerself somewhere warm, allrigh' ye lil blob?"

"Waaaaarm." Morph agreed, with a theatric yawn disappearing in a flurry beneath the hammock and under Silver's tricorn hat. Satisfied, Silver stole up the stairs and glanced over the deck. It had indeed been washed, and now had an icy sheen – but no Jim. Silver precariously stepped towards the galley and called down. "Jimbo?"

There was no answer; Silver's repressed fear quickly rose. "Jim?!" Only silence.

Steadying himself, Silver began his descent down the galley steps.

* * *

He was warm.

Jim was vaguely aware of his returning mind. He could feel the nerves in his body reacting to his will to move; slowly at first, just a twitch of his finger but then his whole body shifted, feeling strangely contained. His shoulder hurt terribly, but the feeling was second place to the overriding feeling of warmth pulsing through his frozen body. He stretched again, only to feel a tightening constraint around his body and his shoulder sting, making him push away harder.

"Easy, easy, Jimbo. Ye ain't goin' anywhere yet."

Only one person in the universe called him Jimbo. "Silver?" Jim opened his eyes and visually confirmed his assumption, the older man's face hovering above his.

The were in front of the now lit oven, seated so close that in normal circumstances the heat from the fire would make Jim sweat. Silver's coat was wrapped tightly around Jim's small body, encircling him at least twice; but most humiliating of all was the fact that Silver was holding Jim in his arms, like a baby.

If shame could kill, Jim would have died right then.

Instead he shifted against the uncomfortable binding of the coat and tried not to make contact with Silver's eyes. "Wha", it was hard to form words with his frozen lips, "What the Hell happened?" _'And why are you holding me!?'_

"I was waitin' fer ye ta join te livin' so ye could answer t'at." Silver growled. "I came down 'ere ta check on ya, and found ye curled up an' freezin' on te floor." It was a gross understatement. When Silver had first found Jim the boy was so pale and motionless he seemed dead. Only the faint whisper of air that escaped his lips and identified life kept Silver from going hysteric, but the image of Jim lifeless had yet to leave his mind. "If I hadn' of found ya…"

Silver's hesitant finish was masked by Jim's interruption. "Wait..wha-? What? You came to _check up on me_?"

Jim watched the man's face harden. "Don' start t'at Jimbo." But Jim's emotions were slowly unthawing – and anger was the quickest to return.

"You k-knew I couldn't finish, so y-you came to gloat, you…you s-s-stupid.." Jim was cut short as Silver's grip tightened and his shoulder was pressed forcefully into the man's chest, sending a searing flare of pain down his entire arm. He yelped and tried to pull away from the pain only to be crushed even further against Silver, misinterpreting his flinch as an escape attempt. "Ahh! Sh-shit, that hurts!"

Jim suddenly felt himself turned; chest to chest with Silver, his shoulder free and body curved over the man's large stomach. "T'ere, now settle down."

His humiliation was complete. Not only had Jim made an ass of himself by fainting like a child, he now was being treated like one. He wanted to pull away, to crawl off and hide deep in the belly of the ship, but the combined strength of Silver's organic and mechanical arms, plus the shame weighing heavy on his heart, was enough to keep him still. Jim simply ground his teeth and fell silent, hoping that he would soon be deemed well enough to be released.

But Silver wasn't finished. "What's wrong, lad?"

"What's not wrong, you m-mean."

Silver chuckled, and Jim was surprised by the sound of it. It was nice to hear the man laugh without scorn or sarcasm buried in his voice. "Try again."

But Jim wouldn't open up so easily. "Look, thanks for warming me up, but I'm fine now and – "

"Yer not duckin' out of an answer, Jimbo."

Jim's temper flared. "Then why don't you just say it, so we can both get out of here?!"

He couldn't see Silver's face from this angle, but his confused voice sounded genuine. "Say wha', lad?"

"That you were right." Jim snarled, forcing his eyes shut. "That you were right and I was wrong, and that I was stupid for thinking I could carry that work by myself."

"I never said ye couldn't."

"Not to my face", Jim snapped, remembering the quiet words Silver had whispered all those hours ago. "Maybe I never heard you say it, but I knew what you were thinking!"

"Ye don' know a damn wha' I was thinkin', Jimbo. I knew ye could do anyt'ing I asked of ye." Jim froze. "In jus' a week ye've worked harder t'an any man 'bourd t'is ship, meself included. But yer a fool, te bigges' I've ever seen, cause ye don' know yer own limits. T'at's w'at almos' got ye froze ta death tonigh'." Silver paused and Jim felt the arms around his back pull tighter. "I hoped ye woul' see t'at, Jimbo, it weren't a matter of whethe' ye could finish or not."

"O-oh." Jim whispered. It was all he could think to say except, "I'm sorry."

He felt rather than heard the cyborg sigh, "It's allrigh', Jimbo. Jus' don' go actin' foolish tryin' ta prove yerself. Ya don' need to prove nothin' to no one."

"Well, next time don't provoke me into learning a lesson. Just tell me and spare me a lot of trouble."

"Would ya listen, even if I did?"

Jim considered. "No."

Another chuckle and the effect was more pleasant than the crackling fire. For the first time, Jim relaxed in Silver's embrace and buried his chilled face in the cook's large neck. He heard a sharp hiss but Silver didn't complain or pull away, for which Jim was grateful. "Get some more sleep, Jimbo." He encouraged.

"What for? It's proubly close to morning by now."

"Don' t'ink fer a minute I'm lettin' ya work like t'is. Yer taken te day off."

"We've been out of the space port for barely a week, I'm not going to take a - " Jim paused; he didn't need to see the cynical glare on Silver's face to tell him that he was about to repeat his mistake. "I mean…fine. Sounds good."

Silver laughed and patronizingly rubbed Jim's back. "Seems like ye learned yer lesson."

Jim huffed, but pushed his numb face closer to Silver's neck and allowed himself to fall asleep in the man's warm and embarrassing embrace.

They could argue about it later; right now he simply wanted to get back the feeling in his nose.

* * *


	10. Coincidences

Another of my personal fav. pairings that I have subsequently overlooked. Hopefully no OOCness, I tried my best to stay true to the character's personalities. Can possibly tie loosly (very loosly) into the last chapter.

Characters (c) Disney/RLS

Constructive critique always welcome!

* * *

Her day had begun as a simple day out; an adventurous exploration of the city that her son Jim now called home – or would until graduation at least. He had been called into an unscheduled orientation, leaving Sarah to her own whims; and so she had jumped on the next carriage to anywhere in order to investigate.

In hindsight, it was not the brightest idea to go exploring without bringing at least one familiar companion. Or, for that matter, a map.

"Ya lost, sweetheart?"

Sarah didn't look at the man who had spoken, but he ducked into her line of vision anyway; a sickly thin man who looked like he had been at the wrong end of a bottle for some time. "Ya look turned 'round. M'bye I can help ya…"

Sarah was positive she didn't want any of the man's 'help.' "I'm not lost", she lied, "I'm simply meeting someone who…hasn't arrived yet."

The greasy man grinned, "Well…In that case, I don't mind waiting with ya till yer _guest_ gets here."

"That's – That's not necessary!" She stumbled.

"Now, now, that wouldn't be friendly of me at all. A lovely lady like yerself all alone…" His smiled widened in a way that made Sarah's stomach do a sickening turn. "Anythin' could happen to ya."

"An' who says she's alone?"

They both jumped at the voice, and a large hand clapped down on Sarah's shoulder. Hesitantly, she craned her neck to look at the stranger – and it took all of her resolve not to flinch away. He was a large man, not only in height; he stood taller than Sarah by at least two feet, but also in belly. His broad nose dominated his face, mouth set into a thin line that clearly showed annoyance. But it wasn't these that made Sarah – and the greasy man – gape. All of his right limbs were mechanical surrogates: his arm, leg, even his eye and ear were a sophisticated collection of pistons and gears.

The stranger suddenly turned and his lips spread into a grin as he looked down at Sarah.

"Sor'y fer bein late, love". She felt his hand squeeze her trembling shoulder. "Ye ready ta _get out'a 'ere_?"

Sarah didn't need further instructions. Still shaking, she placed her hand on his, and returned the smile. "Yes dear, I am." She glanced at the gangly man; his gaze was still fixed on the cyborg. "Thank you for keeping me company, but I'm afraid my friend and I have to go."

She felt the hand gently pull her, and obediently followed his lead. They simultaneously turned their backs at the stunned man, and began walking.

"W'ere ya headed, Miss?"

"The Main District." Sarah answered softly.

He seemed surprised. "T'ats a ways off; why are ya in t'ese parts?"

She hesitated slightly, but then gave in. "I'm lost; I have been for a while." There was no need to be dishonest with him; had he wanted to hurt her he would have already done so. "I was trying to find my way when that man approached me…Thank you so much for your help. That was very kind."

He chuckled lightly. "Ain't no t'anks needed, Miss. I'd be lossin' sleep fer night's ta come if I hadn' of helped." Sarah felt a sense of relief wash over her at these words. "Ye kno', were outta his sigh' by now."

"Oh!" Her hand remained unmoved from his. "I'm sorry!" She gasped, quickly dropping her hand to her side. Another chuckle and a blush entered her cheeks as she felt his slip hand slip away.

"Ye got someone waitin' fer ya in ta Main District?"

"Yes, my son goes to the Academy here."

He snorted. "An' why ain't he out 'ere keepin' an eye on ya?"

Sarah felt a twinge of annoyance. "I don't need him to keep an eye on me! I'm perfectly fine on my own….And what are you smiling about?" She demanded, as a grin broke over the older man's face; as though he were enjoying a secret joke.

"Jus' wonderin' if yer son inherite' yer spunk." Sarah huffed and increased her pace, which he matched easily. "An' I never said ye needed him ta be fine."

"You didn't need to." She growled softly. "You think exactly like that horribly groomed man…A woman without a man is weak."

They walked in an awkward silence; three of her small steps barely keeping her align with one of his. It was several minutes before Sarah realized she had no idea where they were going; when she voiced her concerns the cyborg chuckled.

"Were 'ere, actually."

He had led her to a carriage yard; the same one that had taken her from the Main District to the accursed place she had tottered around for the past five hours. Sarah turned to thank the man, and saw that he had walked off to one of the coachmen and was briskly talking. As she approached, he handed the driver a few coins and pointed somewhere in the distance before noticing her.

"He's gonna take ye to te Main District; ready to go w'en ye are."

"You didn't have to do that", Sarah's voice was tinged with anger and guilt.

"I kno'", he answered, "I wante' to."

He extended his organic hand, which Sarah accepted, and helped her into the upraised carriage seat. She was surprised when his grip tightened and he pulled her slightly down to look into his face.

"Remember, Miss", he said solemnly, "T'eres truth in w'at ye said; ye don' need yer son ta lean on, bu' t'ere ain't no shame in takin' help when given' it." Sarah couldn't break his intense, mix matched gaze. "A lone tree, if it grows a' all, grows strong."

She merely nodded as he released her and stepped away from the carriage. "What is your name?"

He grinned and tipped his tricorn hat to her. "Me frien's call me John."

"No last name?"

"I'll tell ya t'at, te next time we meet." He winked then, and Sarah couldn't stop the smile from forming on her lips.

Suddenly the carriage lurched forward without warning, and Sarah gripped the edge of the seat. She glanced back in time to watch John gently hit the back of the carriage in a mock christening, the same crooked grin etched on his face. "Till t'en, Miss Sarah!"

She had time to offer one farewell wave before the carriage turned a corner and his large figure disappeared behind the plaster and bricks of a building. Sarah sighed and turned forward, relishing in the unfamiliar, erratic beating of her nervous heart; her mind racing at the promise of a second meeting.

It wasn't until fifteen minutes later that she realized she had never told John her name.

* * *


	11. Adequacy

I'm so sorry for writing another Jim and Silver story! T_T I've been promising DxA, and I swear I do have a story in mind and will finish it after my finals!! (yay spring break!)

Not one of my best stories, but it is basically what I thought of while musing over the definition of a 'buried treasure'. I tried to leave it open so that readers could fill in their own information about how the characters got into their situations.

As always Reviews are appreciated, and none of the characters belong to me. They are Disney/RLS.

* * *

The etherium seemed to stretch out for forever; a limitless expanse of stars stranded among bands of cool hues. Even after forty years of traversing its non-existent boundaries it was still beautiful and John Silver never lost his appreciation for the majestic, yet violent solar system. Unlike most things that became smaller as he grew larger, the universe seemed to expand with him – always shifting, always something to be explored.

He wondered, vaguely, how much he had traversed of it over his lifetime of searchings.

"Cap'n!"

Torn from his thoughts, Silver pivoted on his mechanical peg-leg, one fluid and practiced motion, back to reality. His men had corralled the surviving crew, the best of which looked half dead and were kneeling in defeat next to the port railing. He stepped across a not so lucky pirate that he himself had killed and lumbered over to his first mate, Henri. He was slightly pleased when the man flinched at his approach.

"S-Ships been searched, Sir."

"An'?"

The nervous way he wrung his hands gave Silver his answer. "Nichts. No sign, Sir…Of anything."

'_Again….'_

For a moment the battle wrought ship was quiet, the crew almost hopeful. Then Silver inhaled.

"T'en search again." He began softly, his voice slowly rising with his word. "Check every last niche an' cranny; take up every las' plank o' wood from t'is _damn ship if ya have ta_."

"Sir…how long are we..?"

'Till's I find w'at I'm lookin' for." Silver snapped. "An' no' one man rests till t'en."

"But sir…" His first mate stammered and cowered under Silver's heated stare; he quickly glanced over at his crew mates but to no avail. They had no interest in sharing their captain's wrath. "Sir…We've looted five ships in four days and found nothing. We can't keep attacking…"

Silver shoved a metal finger into the man's face. "Per'aps ye didn't hear me - we'll keep lookin' till we fin' w'at I'm after, an' we don' stop till t'en." He drew himself up to his full height and sent his most blistering glare down upon the cowering man. "John Silver always gets w'at 'es searchin' fer."

Henri's desperate response was interrupted by a pounding from the stairs and an eager voice. "Captain! Down here! We found something!"

Silver allowed himself a moment of stunned silence before barking his orders to his dumbfounded crew. "Watch t'em", he growled and then motioned towards his first mate, "Yer wit' me." Without waiting for a reply he briskly made his way over to and down the stairs. He barely heard the mans following footsteps as they passed by the galley and the sleeping quarters, all the while trying to suppress his eagerness.

'_T'is has ta be it…'_

Silver ducked under a panel that might have at one point housed a door and the walls expanded to reveal a small longboat bay. Three of his crew had subdued two men, no doubt from the enemy crew, and had them at gunpoint.

Silver couldn't decide who looked more afraid. "W'at's t'is ye found?" He demanded.

One man gingerly stepped forward, most likely the one who had lost a coin toss between the three, "We found these two tryin to get rid of", he quickly jerked his head, "that."

Silver turned to his indicated right; a longboat was hanging haphazardly from its rope confines, sloppy work for a hasty exit. In the center of the small boat was a large paneled trunk.

Silver slowly approached the wooden chest and rested one large palm on the convex lid. He barely registered the conversation behind him as he ran his hand yearningly over the smooth wood paneling. He hadn't realized until then that he was holding his breath.

"Trying to sneak off while their mates get slaughtered? Must be valuable."

"They wouldn't say what was in it."

Silver's hands moved to grasp the sides of the lid, pulled upward and – nothing. It was locked.

"What do you want us to do, Capn….?"

He bit his bottom lip. "Get it open."

"Sir..?"

"GET IT OPEN!!" Silver's bellow echoed off the cramped walls; all six men scrambled backwards as he turned in a flash of red. "BLOODY FUCKIN' HELL GET – IT –OPEN! _NOW_!!"

One of the captives was unmercifully kicked forward; as pale as though he were about to face the wrath of God himself. He didn't hesitate to crawl over to the chest and with trembling fingers tap a code into the ideograph combination. A soft click resounded through the room and the lid teasingly rose an inch from the body of the trunk.

"Move!" Silver snapped and roughly shoved the man back to his captured crewmate, both of whom were quickly driven out by the three men to join the rest on deck. He eagerly gripped the lip of the lid, paused, and then pushed it forward.

'_Finally……'_

A warm body pressed against his side and Henri's leering face peered over his shoulder. "What is it, Sir?"

Silver ignored him and reached down into the trunk; the stench of chemicals, cedar and sweat assaulted his nose and he noticed Henri take a step back with a sharp, "_Mein Gott_!", at the affront. Undaunted, he carefully lifted the cramped form out of the trunk's confines and into the clean air; mechanical fingers tugged down the blindfold to reveal familiar sapphire eyes that regarded him with confusion and exhaustion – but no fear. He felt the young man's bound hands softly touch his face as though to confirm the cyborg's existence and he lovingly returned the gesture.

"Use te radio." He ordered, turning to an astounded Henri. "Contact ta Academy, an' tell 'em t'ier lil' lost pup's been found."

The cadet's mouth hung open. "Bu-But how?! The Academy Fleet has been scourging this area for two weeks! Even Captain Amelia couldn't locate him, and you found him in four days!?"

A smile crept across Silver's face and into his eyes as he lifted Jim's surprisingly light body in his powerful arms, allowing his friends weary head to rest on his shoulder. The adoration reflected in those blue eyes told Silver that it was trust and not the lingering chloroform that made Jim so compliant.

"Ye really have ta ask, boy? I already tol' ya why I'd fin' 'im."

He decided to ignore the snort of indignation. "I need more of an official statement than 'I always get what I'm looking for' to put in my report."

Military men, they never ceased to remind Silver why he had chosen the opposite side of the law – there was so much less paperwork. Moving slowly so as not to jostle the now sleeping Jim, Silver turned his back to the uptight cadet and made his way to the stairs.

"Put in yer report t'at I'm a natural, an' have been me whole life."

"A 'natural'? At what?" Henri demanded.

Silver glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "W'at do ye expect? T'is boy is me treasure… An' who better ta fin' a treasure chest t'an a pirate?"

And to that logic, Henri had no response.


	12. Reversal

Hello all, this chapter is just to keep those who read my stories happy until I finish my DxA chapter. (Which is too long and under deconstruction _ ) I noticed the general theme of most rescue stories in the TP section, including my last chapter, usually has Jim being saved by Silver, so I decided to reverse it. :3

As always, nothing belongs to me, Disney/RLS, yadayada.

Next chapter will be DxA! I will also eventually have something with Jim's father.

* * *

The rough canvas was more annoying than insulting; the fibers lightly cut his nose and caught on the jagged mechanical motor that had once operated his cyborg ear and eye. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his hands around the throat of the wanker that had smashed in the delicate mechanics before stuffing the sack over his head. But even if he could see and even if his hands weren't securely shackled behind him, there was still the fact that he was locked in the back of a carriage-turned- prison cart.

It was his own damn fault for making such a blundering idiot of himself – walking right into an ambush to save a boy he hadn't seen in five years. And one that was most likely safe and sound thousands of miles away!

'_An' t'ey knew jus' how ta get me, too.'_ He thought glumly; persuaded into believing the lie by a few fragments of Jim's voice – he knew now they were recorded – that had at the time sounded frightened and confused.

If Silver's legs were long enough, he would have kicked himself.

He was distracted as voices from outside his cell grew more distinct, muffled though they were by the sack and the loss of his surrogate ear. He strained to hear his captors through the small, tri-barred window high on the bolted door.

"Did you bring all the money?"

"All that we agreed. I'll need to make sure it's him, of course."

'_Sellin me to te highes' bidder, ye bloody bastards?_'

The stranger must have looked through the tiny window. "I thought I made it clear he should be unharmed? Her Majesty's army only executes fit men."

'_Damn ya all ta Hell!'_ Silver awkwardly slammed his shoulder into the wall, making the whole structure shake.

"See? Nothing serious."

"We _will_ see. The keys to his shackles please?"

"Your not letting him go, are you?!"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" Silver resisted the urge to voice his response. "Her Majesty has more than sufficient means to hold him. _Keys_."

His sole ear barely caught the gentle sound of metal against metal as the keys were traded. "Now if you would hold up your end of the deal…."

"Which bring me to my next point." A soft, familiar click drifted past the canvas. "Her Majesty's army doesn't deal with blackmailers."

The world exploded with gunfire; screams and curses drowned out the sickening sound of bullets hitting flesh – Silver's head pounded as he helplessly listened to the onslaught, unable to stake his claim in the fight over his own life. The carriage rocked suddenly, and he heard "Hold on, back there!" right before the wagon lurched forward and Silver toppled sideways from the force. The manic gunshots and profanities gradually faded, the driver obviously working the draft animals within an inch of their lives.

The ride seemed to go on forever, Silver's large body jostling with every damn cranny and knot the wheels hit. He cursed out loud at his inability to even push himself up into a sitting position. The obscenity had no sooner passed his lips than the carriage came to a jarring halt – sending Silver into another wave of curses. The wagon bounced slightly as his new captor jumped down, followed by the sound of boots on hard dirt. He didn't have to wait long before he heard the heavy door being pulled open.

"We have to go; I didn't lose them for long."

Silver growled from where he lay and donned his most intimidating glare – its effect lost due to the sack. "Ye let me loose an' I'll strangle ya wit' me bare hands."

The laugh that erupted surprised him, but was quickly followed by; "You old scallywag, haven't you figured out who I am?"

His jaw dropped as the bag was pulled over his head, the impish smile on Jim's face lasting only a second before dissolving into a deep frown. "Those bastards! They said it was nothing serious!" The young man gently examined the ruined motor, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "Are you ok?"

Still shocked, Silver merely nodded and attempted to push himself up; Jim's hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him so he could sit. Without being asked Jim reached around and unlocked his hands; he immediately began rubbing his organic wrist to get the blood flowing. "I'm sorry, Silver. I should have been here sooner."

Silver shook his head dismissively; embarrassed by the threats and curses he had been throwing at his captor/savior. "It ain't yer fault, lad. I'm too old an' foolish ta be runnin' 'round tryin' ta play te knight in shinin' armor."

Jim's mouth opened to refute him - and snapped shut. A quite moment passed by them simply staring at one another then the boy spoke with all the seriousness he could muster. "Technically, this would now make you the damsel in distress."

Silver's legs might have been too short to kick himself…But they were certainly more than long enough to kick Jim.


	13. Perfecting

Hello, all! I'm back for who knows how long. I have been trying to get inspired to write TP fanfics and I managed to scrape a few ideas out of the creativity barrel. This is a short, silly thing to try and get me back into the style of writing.

BTW: Thank you for everyone who reviews this series, and also my other fic 'Restoring Imperfection'! I may not reply to them all, but I do read them all and I am so grateful for you guys. Also to the people who fav. me or my stories, but don't leave reviews, I appreciate you guys just as much!!

Disclaimer: I don't know why you would think I own anything.

* * *

Delbert Doppler stared out the tall window overlooking his cobblestone driveway wringing his left wrist nervously. The fire crackled as it slowly burned itself out and he stared at the lingering flames; the small package in his pocket suddenly a heavy weight.

"Amelia, I'd like to …ugh, that is I appreciate you for stopping by…after I invited you, that is…umm..."

"Go ahead."

Delbert took a shaky breath. Public speaking, even to an audience of one, had never been his strong point. "Of course, well…uhm, darling, we have been courting for some time now…uhm." He fished out and unfolded the paper in his vest pocket. "Thirteen months, seven days…"

"Does the exact date matter?"

"No, I…simply memorizing…." He subtly tossed the paper in the fire.

"You don't have to be nervous."

The canid sighed, forcing himself (unsuccessfully) to relax. The speech wasn't going at all as planned. Well, _carpe diem_, as they say.

With a flourish, Delbert turned and managed to make his way over to the lush armchair with only minimal tripping over his own feet. In one swift movement he had the velvet box open, the ring in one hand and a small palm grasped in his other.

"What I want to say, dearest, is that I hope you will give me the honor….of becoming my wife."

He could hardly believe it – a perfect delivery, not even a suggestion of stuttering or scrambling his words in his usual frenzied style. Encouraged, he slid the small token along the appropriate finger…

And almost had his crushed as the ring was smashed back into his palm.

"That's it! No! No, this – ! I can't do this!"

Surprised, Delbert pushed himself to his feet. "What do you mean you can't – "

"This is too much, okay? I didn't even want to be a part of this!"

The astronomer was roughly pushed aside as his guest forced their way out of his study. Put off, but not defeated, Delbert followed. "You're just walking out on me?"

"You don't need me! You'll be fine on your own!"

They were both in the main parlor now, Delbert still following like a dejected puppy. "What about all we discussed? Our plans?"

"HA! Don't turn this on me! You took this _so_ much farther that what we discussed."

Finally, Delbert stomped and pointed an accusing finger and the retreating form.

"Dangit, Jim, you promised you would help me practice my proposal!"

The young man grabbed his jacket from the coat hook and stormed out of the elaborate front door, pausing just long enough to yell over his shoulder. "Yeah, Doc, _practice_! Not be part of!"


	14. Princes and Eagles JS

Okay, so freaking long chapter! I was going to publish this as a seperate story, but it is still a oneshot so I didn't see the point.

I've been stressed out with term papers that are due soon, and now that I am almost done with all of them I thought I would blow off some steam by writing a cliche' feelgood JxS fic. I found an interesting prompt table on the internet that made me think of this story, although it doesn't match ANY of the prompts, so...I suck.

reviews appreciated, no flames please.

Discalimer: Nothing owned, no money earned.

**A/N - 03/16/10! **Hey, nothing in the story changed, but I recieved an 'anonymous' review asking if the story of Ganymedes and Zeus behind this story is true mythology wise, and actually it is! It is very interesting information to read and if you want to look at it for yourself here is the website I found most helpful http: .com/Ouranios /Ganymedes .html without the spaces

* * *

Nighttime was an ambiguous term in the etherium; with so many shifting planets and suns it was difficult to find stability on a ship such as the Legacy. On many occasions Jim had gone down to the bunk to sleep while the deck was bathed in full sunlight, other times it would be pitch dark while he was helping Silver make lunch. But on the rare opportunity where the evening hours matched with its dark sky the cyborg would take Jim up to the observation platform and teach him about the stars.

Their small ritual quickly became one of Jim's favorites. Not only did the lessons give him a chance to relax after a painstaking day of work – no thanks to Silver – but it also meant time for just the two of them, worry free of the crew. Jim loved to watch his friend's face light up when he talked about the etherium and his passion for the subject was apparent by his vast knowledge; he wondered sometimes if Silver knew more than the Doc even.

Jim usually couldn't hide his enthusiasm for nights like tonight, for Silver had deemed the twilight suitable enough for another lesson, but today's workload had been especially toilsome. He had helped prepare all three meals, scrubbed the lower and upper deck, scraped the hull and been the victim of two separate assaults from Scroop (unknown to Silver, Jim had made sure of that). As Silver spoke about the topic for that night, constellations or something, Jim found a comfortable position in the crook of Silver's good arm and had just closed his eyes when he was rudely jostled.

"'Ey! I ain't talkin' fer me own 'ealth!" Silver teased, gently prodding Jim in the side with his mechanical finger.

Jim pushed the hand away and tried to look alert. "I was listening! I jus – I – I." He couldn't stop the traitorous yawn from breaking his sentence. "I'm just a little tired."

Silver frowned, not unkindly. "If ye'd rather sleep, Jimbo…"

"No", Jim shook his head, "I'm fine – really." He added after seeing the disbelief in the man's face. Jim settled back down against his side, eyes wide and gazing around them intently. "Keep going. I'll pay attention."

A large arm encircled him and Silver's gentle chuckle traveled down his body. "Alrigh' t'en, do ya remember any of te constellations I taught ye?"

_Shit_. Jim searched his weary memory, but couldn't produce a single name. "I…"

"'Ere", Silver offered, "Ye remember t'at one?"

Jim followed his pointed finger to a group of stars…That looked exactly like every other group. "Ughhh…"

"Well, maybe t'at's a bit 'ard. W'at 'bout t'at one?"

Jim simply stared. "By t'e powers lad, do ya remember _any_?"

Under Silver's hot glare the young man desperately searched the sky for anything even vaguely familiar, not wanting to disappoint his mentor. He had given up when he realized he actually recognized one group, just off the port side. "That's Aquarius!"

He heard a confirmed grunt from his friend. "Why is it ye remember t'at one?"

Jim shrugged. "I dunno, it just…looks familiar." Silver threw him a questioning glance and he gulped, knowing that his next statement would make him sound crazy. "Like I've known it before this."

To his surprise and relief, Silver nodded. "T'ey say people 'ave a connection wit' te stars, t'at each of us has a special link ta one; sometimes whole constellations." Jim felt himself pulled closer and Silver pointed up to the constellation. "Now, Aquarius t'ere forms Ganymedes."

Jim smiled, loving the awed look on the older man's face as he gazed up to the sky. "Maybe I have a connection with Ganymedes?"

"Could be, he was suppose' ta be a handsome prince". Jim felt his face redden. "So much t'at an immortal god kidnapped 'im."

His face fell. "_What!?_ What for?" Silver gave him a sidelong glance and his blush deepened with the realization. "Oh…"

"Like I said, he was suppose' ta be handsome."

"Did the god even love him?"

"Every nigh' fer eternity." Silver grinned and laughed at the shocked look on his face. "I'm jus' teasin ya, boyo." He nudged Jim's chin in a 'perk up' motion. "It's only a story."

Well that was fantastic – of all the constellations he had to pick the one that gets molested by a perverted god. Jim turned away from Ganymedes and tried to focus on Silver's protective arm around him, as though he too was going to be spirited away. "What about you? What's yours?"

"Ah, lad", Silver sighed, "I don' wager I'm good enough fer one."

"You said everyone has one!" He gently elbowed the man's side and was rewarded with a playful warning snarl. "What about that one?"

He pointed randomly into the sea of stars and was surprised when Silver's face grew serious. "T'at one?"

Jim drew back his arm. "Is that one bad?"

The cyborg glanced at Jim, his gaze full of scrutiny, then back at the constellation. "T'at's Aquila…Did I teach ya t'at one?"

"I don't think so." He didn't understand what he had said to upset Silver, but the man was clearly agitated. "What is that supposed to be?"

Silver leaned back and pinched his brow. "An eagle, one of te forms of Zeus king of te gods."

"That's actually cool", Jim smiled, "Do you have any connection to him?"

For several seconds the older man was quiet and they merely sat together surrounded by the blanket of diamonds. When he finally did speak his voice was soft. "More an' more it seems."

Jim tried to read the emotion on his face, but Silver's expression was as clear as mud. The young man nestled closer to his friend, resting his head on his broad chest and again they lapsed into silence. He was deep in thought when Silver's voice cut through the air, 'Watchya thinkin', lad?"

"Bout Ganymedes", he answered sadly, "and what happened to him. What it must have been like."

"Ye t'ink it's t'at bad?"

Jim thought he heard a bit of hurt in the man's voice. "Not being kidnapped so much as…Never knowing if the man you're with loves you or – or just wants something from you, like Ganymedes' beauty…."

"Ahh." Silver's large hand squeezed his shoulder. "I bet te god loved 'em more t'an ya t'ink."

Jim blinked up at his mentor "How do you know?"

He felt another deep chuckle. "Well, te god put 'em in ta stars, didn' he? Gave 'em eternal life so t'ey could be together. Tat's gotta be some kinda love, hmm?"

Jim felt a reassuring warmth spread through him as Silver's mismatched eyes locked onto his. "Yeah…I think you're right." Again he was pulled closer to that large body and he nuzzled into Silver's chest, directly above his beating heart.

For the third time they sat in silence, albeit a much more comfortable one than the last two. Jim felt so safe with Silver's arm wrapped around him and his mechanical hand cradling the back of his head that he was sure not even the gods could tear him from the cyborg's embrace. Speaking of which… "Who was it, by the way?"

"Hmm?" Silver purred.

"Who was the god that fell in love with Ganymedes?"

"I…I don' righ'ly remember, Jimbo." Jim frowned, suspecting that Silver knew more than we was letting on but before he could comment the cyborg moved and Jim was pushed out of his protective hold. "We best get goin' ta bed, especially ye", he playfully scolded, "Don' want ya to be tuckered out fer yer work tomorrow." With a grin that didn't reach his eyes he lumbered down to the deck and disappeared into the bunk without another glance at Jim.

Slightly hurt and deeply confused Jim slowly followed Silver's trail. He was about to step down the stairs into the bunk when a door from the upper deck closed and footsteps made their way to the lower deck.

"Jim!" Delbert pushed his glasses up with one hand, the other holding a pile of papers and books. "What in heavens are you doing out here this late?"

"Checking out the constellations." Jim smiled, making his way to the canid. It had seemed like forever since they had been able to talk last. "What are _you_ doing?"

"The same thing coincidentally." The astronomer grinned, patting his load of documents. "So, you're taking an interest in historical astronomy?"

"Well, just two of them." He pointed out the two constellations that had dominated his night and thought about Silver's hasty exit. "But I didn't find out all I wanted."

"Ah! Well, since you're developing an interest in the subject, I might have something you might find enjoyable." Delbert enthusiastically pulled out a small book, seeming overjoyed that Jim had expressed even the smallest interest in his field of profession. "Maybe you can find what you want in here."

He accepted the book and glanced over the title, _Myths of the Ancient Constellations_. "Thanks Doc, I'll check this out. But -" A powerful yawn interrupted him. "Maybe tomorrow; I'm wiped out."

"Goodnight then, Jim. Let me know how you enjoy the book." Delbert patted his shoulder and made his way to the observation platform as Jim ducked into the bunk.

But he had no intention of sleeping; at least not before he found out what Silver didn't want him to know. Sitting precariously in his hammock Jim flipped through the book, scanning the entries as he flew past them. Finally, Jim found the page he was looking for and amidst his slumbering crewmates he quickly began to read.

_**Aquarius/Ganymedes**__:_

The handsome, young prince who was kidnapped by the elder god Zeus, in the form of an eagle (Aquila), and taken to heaven to become his lover.

_Motherfu –! It was Zeus! _

Stunned, Jim tucked the book under his folded jacket and stared at the bottom of Mr. Snuff's hammock above him. It didn't necessarily mean anything; these stories were just myths after all! But still…

Jim turned over and glanced at Silver's sleeping figure, his bulky form barely fitting into the canvas hammock. What if it did mean something?

His mind buzzing with princes and eagles, Jim closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

* * *

Morning came all too quickly and Jim immediately began to regret staying up so late until he picked up his jacket, uncovering the book and remembering all that he had learned.

Before Jim could reflect on the odd situation Morph flew down into the bunk and circled around him, chirping loudly. "Hey Morph!" Jim caught the gelatinous blob and was affectionately licked on the cheek. "Did Silver send you down here to get me?"

"Here to get me! To get me!" Morph trilled and led the way up the stairs and to the galley. Jim followed hesitantly, wondering what he should say or if Silver was just going to pretend like nothing happened last night. When he made his way to the galley Morph had already joined Silver by the large stove. "Good work, Morphy, now let's see if ye can get t'is lazy pup ta start on 'is work."

Silver threw him a smile, but avoided his gaze as Morph drifted back to Jim, chanting "Start on 'is work!"

"Okay, okay!" Jim laughed, trying to ignore how eerily normal it was. "You little suck up. What do I need to do first, Silver?"

"Firs', ye sit down an' wait for me ta get done cookin' so ye can eat. T'en ye can start on yer chores."

Jim obediently sat at the wooden table, stroking Morph with his finger and watching Silver out of the corner of his eye. Despite how close they had become – or he thought they had become – today the cyborg seemed distant and Jim hated the thought that it was intentional. Maybe he _had_ over-read everything that happened last night. "So I've been thinking about Ganymedes."

"Still?" Silver answered but didn't stop working. "W'at about?"

"I found out what god fell in love with him."

He thought for just a second he saw Silver falter with the mixing spoon, but he didn't react beyond the slight hesitation. "Didya now?"

"Yeah", he was watching Silver carefully now, "It was Zeus."

"T'at's righ'…I remember now." The older man turned to the cupboard, pulled a bowl out and ladled out some sort of soup. No reaction, no other statements; just the robotic movement that made Jim want to walk over and smack the bowl out of his hands. The boy turned his sight towards the table and took a deep preparatory breath. "You remember last night; you said you bet that Zeus loved Ganymedes?"

He heard his loud, uneven footsteps behind him. "Aye. W'at of it?"

For some reason he couldn't understand the blunt question stung him, and the sting transformed into pure hurt as Silver placed the bowl in front of him and promptly pulled his hand back as though Jim was diseased. "I've just been thinking, and…"

"M-hmm." Silver pressed.

Jim watched Morph circle his bowl and enviously eye the soup. "I think that Ganymedes loved him too."

He waited, heart in throat, for several seconds simply listening to the groans of the ship, the mechanical whirls of Silver's alterations, Morph's oblivious chirping.

Waited and waited and waited….

A full minute limped by with no response from Silver; no loving acceptance or outrage or confusion.

Just nothing.

Jim felt a lone tear escape his eye and creep down his cheek. He was so damn stupid for even thinking that…

He started when Silver placed a wooden spoon by his wrist. His organic hand traveled up his arm, just barely touching Jim's skin and he wiped away the tear with the pad of his thumb. "I'm glad ye t'ink t'at." Jim felt his warm lips press against his temple and he was gone, back to the stove in the back of the galley.

Gaping, Jim stared at his large back as the cyborg busied himself with the rest of the meal. Silver's kiss was tepid and made his whole body feel pleasant in a way he had never experienced and the simple touch had made him breathless. "I – I'm glad too."

Jim saw the corners of Silver's mouth tug in a smile and he couldn't help but smile too, accelerating the whirlwind of emotions within his chest. He turned back to the patiently waiting Morph and began to eat, allowing the small pet to take some bites from his spoon.

Already, he couldn't wait for the end of the day when hopefully – Zeus willing – the sky would be dark and the stars would be back out to play.


	15. Repitition DxA

Written for OnceUponATimes (SameliaX), one of my very first reviewers from so long ago! 3 I promised her DxA and I never really came through, so this is for her! Plus, I think she subtly threatened to put an Italian mafia hit on me if I didn't.

I recently was put through a class to qualify for a concealed weapons license (Still waiting for it....) with my sister and the outcomes of the shooting portion of the test were quite hilarious. My sister inspired most of this oneshot.

Nothing owned.

* * *

Delbert stared into the ink black eyes of the alien across from him. He was reptilian in nature, sporting a receding Caesar cut and a laser pistol in his left hand. If he wasn't made of paper Delbert would have been extremely intimidated.

"Right, Doctor, just as we practiced. Lift."

The rifle was as heavy as Uranium. He lifted the weapon and braced it against his shoulder, as he was taught.

"Very good", Amelia purred, "How does it feel?"

"How is it supposed to feel?"

The small sound of annoyance didn't go unnoticed. "Is the gun light or heavy?"

"Uhmm, quite-quite cumbersome."

"Then lower it and rest for a moment. On my word, lift, aim quickly, and take your shot."

"_What_! We haven't practiced – "

"Bloody hell Doctor, don't turn on me while you're holding that! Eyes straight!"

Delbert about-faced back to his manufactured rival. "Really Amelia, I don't see why this is necessary."

"Because as a decorated officer I refuse to be romantically associated with a man who can be bested in firearms by a child."

The canid's ears rose quizzically. "Does that mean that were dati – "

"_Now_."

Delbert raised the gun, propped, and lined up the sight.

................................... "Anytime this cent – " _**BANG**__._

"Lower", Amelia growled, but Delbert's shaking arms had already dropped, "Right, now Doctor, what exactly did you do wrong?"

"I didn't hit the target?"

"Granted. You also hesitated and your arms lost oxygen, making them weaker and less stable during the recoil. Taking into accord your…limited muscle capacity the firing should take no more than two seconds. Now."

Delbert lifted, propped, aimed. _**BANG**_.

"Excellent, you have successfully made sure the opponent will not be able to spread his genes through natural reproduction. Let's aim a bit higher this time, for the chest region."

Delbert had never entertained the notion of shooting himself before, but the concept was growing more favorable with each moment. "Now."

Lift, prop, aim.....................

.................... "_Delbert_!" _**BANG**_!

"_You missed_!"

"_You frightened me_!"

"There are going to be frightening moments in the field, Doctor!"

"Dangit, I'm an astronomer, I'm not going to be in any field!"

The felinid pinched her brow and hissed, "You had no problem hitting your target in the longboat bay."

"On the _Legacy_? You understand that I was a bit more mortified – er, _motivated_ – than I am now?"

"Well, seeing as how I don't have a dozen armed ruffians to rouse you –"

"Phrasing, please!"

" – what if we incorporated a different incentive? For every shot you make in the area of my designation I will give you a kiss."

………… "P-p-pardon?"

"In the chest. Now."

"One moment; did you just promise to – "

"_NOW_."

_Liftpropaim_ _**BANG**_!

Again Delbert stared. The alien remained largely unchanged: same stare, hair, and weapon; but now small columns of light broke through two wounds in his paper body. Two! _He hit him_!

"Yes, much improvement Doctor", Delbert started, not realizing he had spoken aloud, "However…"

However, he had overshot by six inches. The second hole was placed neatly in the center of the reptile's right shoulder, distinctly seperated from the chest cavity.

Delbert couldn't look away from the alien cutout and his long face visibly fell as Amelia gently took the rifle from his hands. "I can't believe I missed!"

Jet eyes were suddenly replaced with devious mines of emeralds. "Close enough."


	16. Archetype

Kaz320 seemed to have a lot of fun writing stories based on prompts; so I scurried out and found one of my own! It definetely helps the creative flow when you feel pushed against the writers block wall.

prompt: bathroom

Nothing owned

* * *

The Benbow was unusually busy; the handful of families that remained dedicated to the Benbow Inn normally visited only on weekends, but on a Wednesday the small building was already full of customers. Delbert had been chased from the dining room, and his meal, with Sarah's desperate plea to find Jim and bring the teen down to help her.

He checked the boy's room first; being thirteen Jim had started to exhibit hermit-like behaviors, but the bedroom was vacant. Confused, the canid walked down the hall and stopped short when he saw the bathroom door slightly ajar.

"Jim?" He pushed the door open and –

"_DOC_! Get out!"

- slammed the door closed. Delbert waited for his pounding heart to slide back down his throat before (slowly) entering for a second time. "Jim? What are you doing?"

He had seen exactly what he thought he had; Jim was perched on the counter facing the mirror, his face covered in a milky froth and a razor in his hand. "Sorry….you scared me." The small trickle of blood down his cheek was evidence of his jolted hand.

Delbert nodded, observing the small pricks of paper already plastered to the young boy's face. "You're already shaving?"

"Yeah, I guess", he replied, subtly waving the small razor.

Seconds dragged on with nothing but the sound of water dripping from the faucet. The two men didn't pretend not to avoid each other's gazes. "Well, that's very reprehensible – _responsible_ – of you, taking initiative all by yourself …"

"Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"Um, no, I ughhhh….Your mother needs your help downstairs." He felt himself point down, as though Jim didn't know the direction for downstairs.

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute."

Delbert took the hint. He stepped out and closed the door, but didn't turn away. Instead he listened to the scrapping of skin against metal, Jim's soft curses, the tearing of paper, and more harsh scrapping.

It wasn't fair. Leland should be here, guiding his son through the rite of passage like fathers were supposed to, like their fathers before them; like Delbert's father had done for him.

For the third time, the older man pushed his way into the bathroom. "Jim, do you want some help?"

"I'm fine", Jim scowled, but he didn't resist as Delbert took the stained razor out of his hand; he only offered the frown that had become accustomed to his young features.

"Pull with the hair, not against it", he advised, trailing the blade over his own unprepared face, "the chin and neck have loose skin, so you need to gently pull it taunt as you go." Delbert ran his padded thumb over the edge. "Sharpen the blade before you continue; you're more likely to cut yourself with a dull edge than a sharp one."

Jim didn't speak, but simply gazed straight ahead with a blind, accusing gaze. The astronomer realized that he had overstepped his intentions, wandering into a land where only fathers and sons were allowed to reside. He apologetically placed the razor next to Jim's fist and was surprised when the boy didn't move to grasp it. Seconds dragged on without words or movements from either; they simply existed without each other being present.

It hit Delbert like a brick. "I'll show you how to sharpen it," he offered.

"Thanks", Jim whispered, and handed the small token back.

It took nearly twenty minutes to show the boy how to properly shave, including how to maintain his razor. Of course, like all things, Jim picked it up quickly and while the left side of his face was reminiscent of the White Pox, the right side was smooth and paper free.

"Thank you, Delbert", Sarah beamed while cleaning up a vacated table, "you're going to be a wonderful father someday."

The doctor shook his head politely and sat down to his –now cold – meal. "Yes, yes; well, first I have to find a woman willing to marry me and I think we both know the chances of _that_ happening."


	17. Interrupted JS

Written after going on a TP fanfic reading binge. In almost every JimxSilver story I have read there is always one element that has to be addressed before anything vaguely romantic/sexual happens. For anyone who has read a JxS story, I think we all know what that thing is. :P There is one naughty word in here, so faint hearted people be warned.

**A JxS oneshot, so do not read if you do not like.**

Nothing (c) to me

* * *

The bed groaned in protest as Jim was ungallantly dropped onto the mattress, Silver following close behind to crush their mouths together in a kiss. Their teeth struck each other with a sharp_ clank_ and they paused to laugh away their embarrassment and the jarring pain. Jim took the opportunity to wind his arms around the cyborg's neck; hands running down the broad back composed of fused skin and metal. But the momentary distraction was soon forgotten and their mouths found their marks as Silver's own hands explored Jim's body.

Their kiss seemed to go on forever and yet too soon Jim's lungs screamed for fresh air; he grudgingly pulled away and Silver moved his sights to the boy's neck. Jim obligingly tilted his head back and Silver had just begun to take advantage of the clean patch of skin when a soft noise interrupted the boy's euphoria. "Silver…" If the older man heard him he paid no heed and Jim was sorely tempted to let him continue until a small pink form filtered in through the threshold. "Silver! Stop, stop, stop! Dammit, _stop_!" He shoved the disgruntled cyborg away and shimmied out from under his large body.

"W'at's wrong wit ya, boy?" Silver growled, not noticing Morph until a small whimper filtered from the small creature. Jim pushed himself up and coaxed his pet into his hand where he collapsed in a small pool. "Hey Morph." He cooed, stroking Morph with his finger. "What's wrong?"

"T'ought I told ya to stay in te kitchen and eat." Silver scolded lightly, obviously irritated by the intrusion.

"He's sick, Silver." Jim growled, casting a glare that was masked with concern.

"Sickkkk…" Morph confirmed. His large eyes were glazed and heavily lidded, his usually florescent body was incredibly dull and Jim could feel an unnatural warmth radiating from his small form. "Silver, feel him. Doesn't he feel warm?"

The old pirate obeyed, placing his large palm over the shivering creature. Morph whined like a kicked puppy and retreated under the shelter of their combined hands. "Sickk." He repeated weakly.

Without waiting for his answer, Jim pushed past Silver and shimmied to the front of the bed. "You can stay here." He reassured Morph, laying him gently on a pillow and ignoring Silver's exasperated sigh. "Get some sleep."

Morph didn't have the strength to imitate Jim's words, so he simply gurgled and melted into a small dimple in the pillow. Within a few moments his slippery body was rising and falling rhythmically; Jim watched Morph sleep for several seconds before a kiss to his neck jolted him. "Hey, what are you doing?" He whispered as the mechanical hand wrapped around his waist.

"Ye should know by know, seein' as how many times we've done it." Silver teased, leaning down to kiss him.

"Silver!" Jim pushed against his large shoulders and dodged his mouth. "We can't do that with Morph here!"

Silver snorted as Jim wormed out of his grasp. "He's asleep, boyo. Plus, he don' know w'at were doin."

"Like hell he doesn't!" Jim barked, distancing himself for the sake of his own self control as well as Silver's. He shifted under the covers and lay down next to the slumbering Morph, tearing his eyes away from the cyborg's face. "Just put it on ice for one night."

Silver coughed several soft curses as he joined Jim under the blankets, staying blatantly close to his side of the bed. Jim smiled; enjoying how the old man was acting like a child denied his favorite toy. "Cuddle up to dad, Morph."

He heard Silver mumble something that sounded suspiciously like "cock blocker" and the bed shifted slightly as Morph apparently woke and drew closer to his former owner. Several minutes passed before Jim drew himself up one elbow and looked over at the pair; Silver on his back with Morph collected in the crook of his neck and shoulder, the heavy mechanical hand reaching over to gently stroke the slumbering pet.

The heartwarming sight made Jim smile sweetly. "You really are just a big softy." Jim purred, kissing Silver's cheek and settling down next to his lover. He felt a laugh radiate down Silver's large body and his organic arm encircled him, pulling Jim closer.

"We'll see 'bout t'at tomorrow night."


	18. Mercy

Long time no see, TP peeps. I wrote this after seeing a post in the discussion forums that said something along the lines of "What would happen if Jim looked to someone else as a father figure?" It seemed like an interesting challenge, but it was depressing writing a fic where Jim and Silver aren't friends. I need to watch the movie to get my spirits lifted.

Nothing is owned by me.

* * *

The boy stood rigidly, fists raised protectively in front of the blackened ring of skin framing one bright eye. Scroop watched him dance awkwardly, his lithe movements inhibited in the cramped area of the cargo hold – exactly as he had hoped. The Manticore's fanged mouth twisted into a smile and he waved his claw back and forth in a 'come and get it' motion.

He didn't miss the hesitation in the young man's step as he fell left and then lunged forward. Scroop almost laughed. A simple step and Jim soared past him, his fist connecting with air. "_Dammit_!" The spunky brat turned and charged but again Scroop sidestepped out of Jim's line, this time racking a claw against his back to roughly send him chest first into the wall.

"Too sssslow, boy." The human gasped for breath, leaning heavily against the offending wall and completely defenseless. Scroop hated to end the fun so quickly. Quicker than a heartbeat he was at the boy's exposed back, claw raised and prepared to –

In the next heartbeat his four front legs were swept from under him; the ground rushed up and was interrupted by Jim's fist connecting right under his amber eye.

Scroop yowled and retreated several steps backwards but was quickly followed by an invigorated Jim. The boy landed one more hit on his armored chest before Scroop eyes landed on the innocent bag of tubers next to him; in one movement he gripped the bag and flung it at the young man. It hit Jim square in the chest and the boy cried out in pain as Scroop swiped him into a wooden crate. Jim didn't have a chance to recover; in a second his black claw was against the boy's smooth throat and Scroop grinned victoriously. "Yer dead, cabin boy." He hissed and poised ready to cut his skin into ribbons.

The boy's enraged blue eyes stared up at him. "You're such a fucking cheater!" He snarled, pushing the Manticore away and receiving a smack upside the head as a reward.

"Theresss no cheatin' in a fight, boy." Scroop argued, ignoring Jim's hateful glare. "Ye do whatever ye can ta win."

"I _was_ winning until you did that." Jim aimed a kick at the bag.

But Scroop shook his head. "Ye ssstill don't underssstand." He sighed. "It'sss not about who landsss the most hitsss. It'sss about knowin' yer enemy and knowin' what hesss gonna do before he doesss it."

"I don't think anyone but you would throw a bag of tubers at me." His voice was a mixture of spite and sarcasm.

"A perssson will do whatever they want if yer not ssstrong enough to fight back." Scroop snapped. "Yer mangy eye isss proof of that!"

The boy's face fell, his hand moving up to touch his blackened eye and Scroop immediately regretted his words. Jim had not spoken much of the bruise and Scroop would have never believed that his restrained captain could have been the cause had he not been the one to find the boy afterwards, hiding in the longboat bay and cradling his bleeding face. Jim, however, had pushed aside his heartbreak and begged the alien to teach him to protect himself against the cyborg's power. "I remember." Jim whispered sadly.

Scroop nudged the boy's shoulder in what he hoped was an affectionate manner. "Ye are doin' better." He offered. "Ye got in a few hitsss, but ye ssstop payin' attention and go mad when ya do."

"I don't get why I shouldn't hit when I have the chance!" Jim whined.

"What have I told ya?" The boy frowned as Scroop circled around him. "Yer not ssstrong, yer quick and fassst on yer feet - like me. Wait for him ta ssstrike, let him wear himssself out and then…" He jabbed and pushed Jim in the side. "Ye go for him."

The boy frowned and rubbed the spot Scroop had hit. "That sounds…It sounds cowardly." He admitted with a hint of apology in his tone.

"That'sss what men like Sssilver would have ye believe." Jim flinched at the sound of the cook's name. "But trussst me boy, when ya go fissst ta fissst with a man like that he'll do whatever it takesss ta win, and ya bessst be willin' ta do the sssame."

For a moment Scroop wished he hadn't spoken; in a month or two when they reached Treasure Planet all of this advice would be for nothing. His captain had made it perfectly clear the fate that awaited the people outside of his crew and perhaps it was just the simple pleasure of having someone else on this damn ship who knew Silver's true nature, or maybe Scroop genuinely liked the boy, but when that time came he wanted Jim to have every chance of survival that he could. "Jussst remember that." He concluded lamely.

Jim smiled and playfully punched his former enemy's shoulder, oblivious to his morbid thoughts. "Wanna go again?"

Scroop was pulled back to reality and chuckled at the boy's eagerness. "If yer ssso desssperate ta get beat again." He growled.

Before Jim could fire back his response the hold vibrated from a strong bellow. "_JIMBO_!"

The young man withered under the sound and they both gazed at the stairs leading to the deck. "I better go." He whispered, moving to retrieve his large jacket from the corner.

Scroop uttered a goodbye as the boy hastened up the stairs but after a moment his footsteps clattered as he ran back down and poked his head around the corner. "Thanks Scroop." He grinned like they were childhood friends and disappeared for his morning chores.

Several minutes after the boy left an unfortunate crate erupted in a shower of splinters as Scroop's claw bashed into it over and over.

"_Dammit_!" He spat, and glared down at the sad remains of the empty crate. Two weeks ago Scroop would have given anything to kill the boy himself and now he would give anything to _save_ him from what was coming.

The Manticore took a shuddered breath and kicked the wooden pieces out of his way as he moved towards the stairs and up to the deck. But there was nothing he could do for Jim except….

Scroop paused as what few options he had tumbled about in his brain. He could prepare the boy, train him to fight, teach him how to survive when the mutiny eventually came. And if Jim failed, if he couldn't escape from the trap Silver was pulling around him, he would find the boy. He would take him away from his crewmates' torture; he would find a hidden place on the ship and ask for his forgiveness.

His eyes landed on Jim's form as he washed the deck, chatting with Silver's pet as he worked. The boy looked over at him and Scroop returned the smile that was beamed at him.

And when everything else failed he would slit Jim's throat. He would give the boy the mercifully quick and painless death he deserved.

Scroop prayed that he would be ready.


	19. Preperations

My computer caught a malware, or whatever, and for two days I thought I had lost everything on my computer. Thankfully all of my files were saved due to the magnificent people of Office Depot. I was going to do more with this story, but with everything that happened recently I just want to get it out before something happens again.

The infamous before movie coffee scene.

characters (c) Disney

* * *

"This is the very essence of catastrophe, my dear Arrow." A smile tugged at the corners of the alien's graveled mouth, unnoticed by his female companion. "If one were to concoct an exact formula to produce optimal desolation, this would be the final product! And this Doctor Doppler would be the patriarch!"

Arrow lifted his cup of black coffee to safety as the felinid sharply slammed the thicket of papers onto their moderate table. He had always admired the way her viridian eyes shined when she was excited – or, in this case extremely agitated. "Having second thoughts about the commission, Captain?"

"I'm dreading every aspect of this ridiculous arrangement, from the…_whimsical_ notion of destination down to the lowest member of this ludicrous parcel of driveling galoots – except for you of course." Amelia added quickly with a thin, radiant smile that had toppled far stronger men than him.

"You could lodge a formal immediate withdrawal", he suggested lightly, "there are several fresh graduates willing to command a simple exploration."

Thinking about the small velvet box waiting on his bedroom bureau, he almost wished she would entertain the offer. But his beautiful captain straightened in her walnut Belvedere chair. "And leave my best man as first officer to a greenhorn? After ten loyal years of service?"

Ten years; it felt like a day and a century at the same time. Arrow blinked his pebble eyes and dipped his head. "Of course I would extract my responsibilities as well."

"Bravo!" Amelia exclaimed, clinking their coffees together in a mock toast. "I declare, Arrow, I cannot imagine my life without you."

The man chuckled warmly and finished his drink in one unsophisticated swig. In three months time, at the conclusion of the commission, she would never have to imagine life without him. What better way to end a career and begin the rest of his life than proposing to the woman he loved?

They spent several more minutes talking over their breakfasts as old friends while the sky slowly melted from a warm pink to the lightest of blue. Six deep _gongs_ signaled the beginning of the first day of his last voyage and Arrow obediently took his cue. "I should see to the preparations of the ship." He said, pushing himself up from the table.

"Very good. I'll be around shortly to show how it's done properly." Emerald jewels shimmered over the rim of her cup of Earl Grey, but when no defensive rebuttal was made she continued. "Really, Arrow, does nothing I say or do strike past that masonry armor of yours?"

Arrow smiled, leaving enough money for both of their coffee.


	20. Underestimation

Everything (c) Disney/RLS

* * *

"I can't believe we stopped the Legacy just to get some stupid fish." Jim growled from his seat on a tall wooden barrel that reeked of dried perch. "Do we really need the stuff that bad?" Silver seemed to be ignoring him as he rapped on the door to the modest fishery, his powerful arm nearly bringing the door of its hinges. "Would ya rather be scrapin' barnacles off te hull?" He finally asked, throwing Jim a playful and yet threatening stare. "If ye don't want ta be livin off purps te last stretch of te voyage ye'll suck it up and help me find ta damn owner of t'is place."

"Help me find ta -!" The cook snatched his translucent pet up before he could mimic the curse. "Watch it Morphy!"

"This is too much fun for me to handle." Jim mumbled, pushing himself up. How could the Doc have forgotten to order _food_? Even if it _was_ the most disgusting food in the universe and if the teen _was_ in charge they would be eating purps instead of the salty nuisance known as perch. He wandered off, not even pretending to help Silver look for the owner. It had only been a week since they had left port and the cyborg had already made good on his promise to work Jim to the bone. Every morning brought some new task for him to complete, a deck to wash, a mountain of kitchen ware to polish – Jim had never hated life more. If he wanted to be treated like a mindless slave he could have stayed at home; at least on Montressor he could focus on solar surfing.

"Jimbo!" He hated how much Silver loved that nickname. "I found him! Keep an eye out fer Meltdown, he's gonna bring a wagon ta pick te rations up." Jim huffed and stopped at the edge of a large, rectangular tank built level into the ground. He kicked a small rock into the water and was immediately reprimanded by a sharp series of chirps. "Tattle tell." He snarled, a smile forming on his lips as Morph danced around his head. The teen knelt down and motioned down to the water. "Look Morph, I bet this is where they keep the nasty things." Hands on his knees, Jim leaned over the edge of the pool and gazed down into the seemingly endless water. "You see anything?" The shapshifter whimpered disappointedly and drifted over his shoulders, his large eyes searching the water for any sign of the perch. "Me either. Maybe we'll get lucky and they won't have any to sell us!" Morph twirled in the air. "Won't have any! Won't have any!" At least someone else loathed the fish as much as him.

Morph's chattering suddenly died as the air vibrated with a low hissing sound, like air escaping from a pipe. "Well, well." Jim's smile faded as the Manticore's face reflected above his own. "Are the ssship ratsss having fun?" The boy turned on his heels and was greeted with the sight of Scroop's multiple spindly legs; the tall alien loomed over him and Jim had to crane his neck to glare up into his yellow eyes. "What are you doing here?" He growled. The spider scratched his neck with a dangerously sharp claw and he instinctively shifted backwards only to feel the lip of the pool directly behind him. "Cap'n sssent me inssstead." Scroop said. Jim didn't believe him for a moment – he had probably taken the job from Meltdown just so he could harass him. "Don't get too close, Scroop – perch think bugs like you are_ really_ tasty." Morph laughed but quickly dove behind the teen as Scroop's fanged mouth twisted into a menacing snarl. "Ya know cabin boy, ya ssshould really learn to be lesss clumsssy."

"What do you – " Scroop's claw ended his sentence with one swift blow to his chest and forced the air out of his lungs in a violent heave. For a single moment Jim hovered over the surface of the pool before crashing below the surface, the water rushing in to cover his body and run into his nose. His legs thrashed, trying to beat the water away while the burning spread down his throat and into his stomach; the smooth wall fell under his fingertips as they desperately searched for something to grab on to. Suddenly his neck tightened and the world surged upward – Jim gagged as sweet air hit his face; his hands finally clutched the earth as he was released and dropped on his knees. "Breathe! Breathe Jimbo!" A heavy pound connected with his back and he vomited the lingering water, gasping for a breath between chokes. Morph shifted into a cloth and did his best to dry Jim's face as he lay there trembling underneath Silver's hand. "Yer alright, lad. Stand up now – I got ya."

If it weren't for the strong hands cupped under his armpits the teen's rubbery legs would have collapsed back to the floor. Over the sound of his own gagging he heard a hoarse laugh and lifted his head up far enough to see Scroop; the Manticore stood several feet away, making no attempt to hide his amusement. "And I thought all ratsss knew how to ssswim."

* * *

"It ain't nothin' ta be ashamed of Jimbo, not bein' able ta swim." They stood near the gangplank of the Legacy, watching as the crew members hauled up their new stores of perch packed tightly in barrels. Silver had given the boy his large coat which looked absolutely ridiculous draped across his thin frame. "I know a slew of people who can't." Jim's eye roll was interrupted by an abrupt cough and Silver swore he could still see some traces of water erupt from his mouth. "Well gee, that makes me feel so much better."

The man bit down on his annoyance and forced himself to let the comment slide having decided earlier that the half-drowned pup had earned a small allowance of sarcasm from Scroop's stunt. "W'at I'm tryin' ta tell ya is t'at ye ain't te only one. Ya t'ink I'm able ta swim wit' all t'ese gadgets weighin' me down?" His cabin boy stared up from him behind soaked bangs. "Could you swim _before _that happened?"

…."T'at aint te point." The teen groaned irritably. "Tere's just some t'ings t'at are harder ta learn t'en others…"

"I'm not stupid!" Jim snapped. "I was gonna learn, but…" The cyborg waited for Jim to finish but the sentence was abandoned to the shouting crew and the clattering of the machinery as the last of the barrels was loaded safely onto the ship. "Forget it." He mumbled. Silver rolled his shoulders and glanced down at the boy, waterlogged and weighed down by shame. He had never seen someone take such a simple failure to heart. "It's not too late ta learn, Jimbo." The man reassured him. "I'm sure te Doc can give ya some pointers, or – "

"You know what, I'm gonna leave now but you feel free to keep talking." Silver started as his coat was thrown spitefully at his broad back; before he could turn and spit out a word of punishment the boy was halfway up the gangplank. And with that the last of Silver's patience snapped in two – he was going to work that damn pup ragged tonight. As though he could read the pirate's thoughts Morph gurgled and pressed against his thick neck; the shapeshifter had been oddly quiet since Jim's spill that afternoon. "He gave ya a scare, huh Morphy?" His pet cooed some nonsense words and rolled around the mechanical fingers that rose up to pet him. "If te boy weren't so thick headed he might learn more t'an how ta kick his legs in water."

Suddenly a familiar, clear voice rang down to him from the ship. "Mr. Silver! A word please, that is if you don't mind…" Immediately he plastered a practiced hearty grin across his face as Delbert Doppler shuffled uneasily down the gangplank. The Canid was the very definition of a landlubber and a source of mockery amongst his secret crew but Silver found his naivety oddly amusing in small doses. He threw his arm around the man and playfully jostled him as through he were Silver's younger brother. "'Course I don't mind Doc! Just makin' sure t'ere ain't no more jumblin' up our food supply."

The small man fidgeted nervously under his hold. "Ahh, yes, my apologies about that acute – _minute_ – error. But what happened to Jim! He's completely drenched and won't speak a word."

"Nothin' ta concern yerself wit', Jimbo just got a little lesson in water safety." He chuckled at his small joke but Delbert seemed less amused; he wriggled and finally ducked out of Silver's hold. "By te way, Doc, how is it a boy his age don't know how ta swim?"

"Don't know how ta swim!" Morph agreed.

The astronomer rubbed the back of his neck. "Well Leland, his uhm…his father intended to teach him, but never…never got around to it." Never got around to it before he abandoned the boy was what Silver heard hidden under his well chosen words. "An' _no one _thought ta teach him after t'at?" Delbert's tongue stumbled for a moment, but whatever excuse he was brewing up was interrupted by Arrow's stern bellow from the deck. "All hands on deck! Prepare to cast off!" Morph trilled excitedly and flew up the gangplank to the ship; the two men followed behind the blob as the rest of the crew jumped to life and flew into the rigging. As Silver stepped onto the deck he glanced down and spied a watery trail of boot prints that lead straight down into the galley like a path of fallen tears.

* * *

"Up 'ere Jimbo! Climb up an' we'll get started!" Silver heard a weary sigh as Jim climbed up to the observation platform and plopped down at his side; nearly eight hours had passed since his dip in the pool and the boy still looked exhausted – Silver's list of chores probably didn't help either. "What are starting and how long is it gonna take? I'm so tired…" The cyborg smiled and tossed a length of rope over to Jim. He had spent the whole day since the boy's 'accident' thinking about all the things that Jim had never been taught, all the things he had never learned and for reasons Silver didn't understand the thoughts bothered him. As the afternoon wore on he had tried to ease Jim's chronic shame and his own uncomfortable sympathy by teaching him some new skills, as he had promised on the first night of the voyage; however his attempts were met with nothing but arguing. "Listen Jimbo, I know yer still upset about today…" His comment made the teen run his hand down his weary face. "Now, I can't teach ya how ta swim but I can show ya a few other tricks." His cabin boy stared down at the rope as though trying to decide who to strangle first – himself or Silver. "You really think I'm an idiot, don't you? Just cause I don't swim." Silver frowned. "I don't t'ink t'at…"

"Yeah?" Jim growled, glaring up at him for the first time. "Then why've you been following me around? You didn't care what I knew before today and now you're telling me how to scrub, how to peel tubers – "

The cook felt insulted at Jim's ranting. "I'm just tryin' ta help ya."

"I can figure out how to peel a freaking tuber! I don't need you to show me how!"

"Oh? T'en why is it ya never figured out how ta swim?"

The teen's eyes darkened venomously and a strange guilt washed over Silver. "Because I. Don't. Want. To." He snapped. Heavens above, if Silver had a farthing for every time he had heard that excuse he wouldn't need Flint's Trove. He leaned over to the side and picked up a similar piece of rope for himself. "I'm gonna tell ya somethin' yer not gonna like, lad, but ya need ta hear it. Whether it's swimmin' or pickin' fights or anythin' else ye can't blame yer pop for not bein' able ta learn."

There was nothing but heavy silence for several seconds, interrupted only by the whirling of Silver's mechanical parts and the boy's furious breathing. The man bit his tongue and waited; he had wanted to teach Jim in a way no one else had but now it was clear to him that the cabin boy was not going to learn anything until he accepted his limitations. "Just show me." Jim finally whispered, low and hostile. Silver shrugged and without warning began tying an elaborate bowline knot he had learned in his youth. He executed the knot with more speed and flourish than normal, mainly to confuse the boy but also to impress him. "Don' get frustrated if ya don' get it yer first try. It took me days ta get t'is one perfect." It took mere seconds for the seasoned spacer to finish the knot; he grinned with a rush of self satisfaction and raised the finished product up for Jim to see. "An' t'at's all t'ere is to it! Now ye tr…try." Silver was alone on the observation deck. Somehow Jim had silently snuck down to the deck and was now walking perilously heel to toe along the railing, hands stuck deep into his pockets and trudging away from Silver for the second time that day. Furious, he leaned over the rail and made to call after him when he saw it.

Lying innocently in his place was a flawless bowline knot. He ran his fingers over the rope, stunned, and held it up next to his own – they were identical. A cabin boy who couldn't – or wouldn't – figure out how to swim on his own had tied a perfect bowline knot without even having the patience to watch Silver's demonstration. The old cook leaned back and watched as his young charge idly stood on the railing, staring out into the star speckled distance. Even if Silver could swim he wouldn't be able to teach the boy, no one could until Jim decided he wanted to, but looking down at the knot in his hand he wondered what other things he could convince him to learn.

* * *

End


	21. Parturition DxA

Delbert/Amelia

Nothing (c) me

As always, thanks to everyone who keeps up with my stories. I know a lot of you guys are fans of D/A so I hope you enjoyt his chapter. It was a lot of fun to write. :3

* * *

The morning had begun innocently enough. Delbert hated that phrase. Ever since he was a pup reading his mystery novels finding that phrase in the first paragraph of any book always meant disaster was soon to follow. But by some divine sense of humor that phrase was becoming more and more commonplace in his life than any other and, just like in his story books, disaster found itself close behind. "Delbert, dear." Amelia called over to him in a falsely alluring sing-song voice. "If it's not too much of a bother would you please stop your dawdling and _come help me_?" Her yowl brought the Canid back to reality, back to the unconscious man draped across the stateroom floor and to Delbert's beautiful wife who was kneeling between the spread legs of a very pregnant and very in labor woman. "_Now_!"

"I – um – I – I I'll go c-call for assistance!" He offered clammily, his strained voice barely audible over the howls of the young woman. Amelia shook her fiery head. "There's no time for help to arrive, her water is already broken and the baby is coming now!"

"I'll go get her some new water!"

"_Delbert Doppler_ take your hand off that door and get over here _or so help me_ – !"

"_For God's sake just do what she says!"_ The woman yowled; that simple action drained her and she fell back, utterly spent. Amelia continued to glare as though the stranger had not spoken and Delbert felt his traitorous legs separate from the door. "What do you expect me to do?"

"Go over there – _over there_!" She hissed and swatted as he tried to sit by his wife's side. "Prop her back up and support her." Delbert did as he was told, clumsily lifting the woman by her shoulders and trying with mounting embarrassment to lean her against his chest. Her floral print dress draped just under her knees, shielding what little modesty the poor woman still retained. Every strand of her straw colored hair was drenched with sweat and clung to the contours of her round face that could have been pretty had it not been twisted in pain. "Talk to her Delbert! Keep her mind occupied." Delbert glanced at his wife, ears raised and silently asking '_What in Heavens do I talk about'?_ The returned glare clearly gave him his answer; _'Anything'!_

"Well, I'm, ahhhh, If I'm not mistaken your husband's name is David," he cast an envious glance to the unconscious man some five feet away. "But I'm afraid I don – ." A grating screech cut across his sentence and the woman in his arms arched like a fired bow. "What's your name?" He cried bluntly.

"Eliz – _God it hurts!_ – Elizabeth. I'm- I'm Elizabeth."

"A very good name; I was to have a sister named Elizabeth before she…well, as it happened she turned out to be a brother – " Again he was cut off with a fresh scream but Amelia nodded encouragingly from above her knees. He waited for Elizabeth to quiet before continuing. "Elizabeth, dear. I don't mean to pry, but don't women of your desolate, er, _delicate _condition have some sort of precursor events that indicate labor?" Her glassy eyes blinked in confusion and she tilted her head to look at him. "Wha…What?"

"Did you really not know you were going into labor?"

"_Delbert!_ That is beyond inappropriate - !"

"You told me to talk!"

"No…He, He's right." Elizabeth gasped between sobs. "I knew, but…But David needs this job so badly, I thought _AHHH!_ I thought I could wait a few hours, just until he was done."

"That was very considerate of you," Delbert conceded. "Although horribly misguided." Amelia's growl of frustration was drowned out by another shriek that shook the stateroom windows; if there were any dock hands about they were sure to think they woman was being murdered! "Were getting close!" Amelia warned. Immediately Elizabeth's grip tightened and a fresh wave of tears fell down her face as spasms tore through her. A thousand topics galloped across Delbert's mind, none of them content to slow down and let the flustered canid grasp one of them. Finally, he remembered what he and Sarah had discussed at length almost every night nearly eighteen years ago. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth dear, tell me about the names! You must have some names picked out!" Delbert fought to be heard above her panting and for a moment he thought the poor woman hadn't heard him. "If – if – if – it's a girl we – we want to name – name her Claire…AHHH!"

Amelia howled to him. "The baby's crowning!" _Dear God_, Delbert thought, _what was going on back there? _"And what if it's a boy, Elizabeth? What if you have a son?"

"We – we – k-keep fighting, can't de-decide what to AAAOOOOHHH!"

Delbert clenched his eyes shut as though they were falling over the crest of a waterfall, Elizabeth howling in terror as they plummeted toward the rocks below. Of course the crash never came and little by little the woman jerked and flinched before relaxing into him, both of their trembles canceling the other out. A moment of silence passed before another wail filled the air, this one angry and confused and brimming with newness. One of his eyes opened on their own accord just enough to fall on his wife peering down at the two tiny red fists emerging from the bundled up naval jacket. "Well, I suggest you two decide on a name quickly because that is exactly what you have – Congratulations my dear, it's a son. Delbert, you can go get that water now."

* * *

"As surprising as this might sound this is actually not the most chaotic interview I have ever held, although I dare say it's dangerously near the top." Amelia stated flatly as she joined the canid at the railing, somehow still presenting an air of regality despite being caked in blood. They watched as the paramedics ushered Elizabeth into a carriage with her precious bundle, her husband being unceremoniously carried behind her. She grinned weakly and waved goodbye to the pair as Amelia continued. "And what of you, darling? Are you thoroughly traumatized?"

"I had assumed that the mutiny would remain the most terrifying experience of my life. Now I have to reconsider that order." His wife chuckled warmly. "Really? I'm surprised at you. Childbirth is a miracle of nature, an example of the purest biological phenomenon available to us. I would think that a scientific man such as yourself would respect that."

"Oh, I do respect it. Which is precisely why I study astrology and not biology." Amelia's thin shoulders shook ever so slightly as she tried to contain her laughter but Delbert could hear the sound bubbling in her throat. "Think of it in this perspective," she said as she slowly gained control. "As unpleasant as that fiasco was poor David is sure to be envious of it. After all, he did miss the birth of his first son."

"Speaking of which, you really should consider granting him another interview."

His wife stared over with a surprised expression. "Honestly Delbert I understand your sympathy but the man fainted at the most minute sign of blood! I cannot in good conscience allow a man of his… constitution to be my replacement." The canid laughed softly and scratched the back of his neck. "Trust me dear, if I saw you suffering from such pain I couldn't guarantee that I wouldn't abandon my consciousness as well." Amelia looked as if to argue, paused, and then nodded in humiliating agreement. "Besides," he continued. "Elizabeth did mention that he is in dire need of a job." The carriage finally started to roll away, the cabbie coarsely yelling for nearby gawkers to clear the way or be trampled by the cart beasts. "I suppose I could at least give him a second interview…If you will concede to one condition." Delbert was now the one wearing the surprised expression. "Me? What sort of condition?"

"That when _our_ baby comes you will be conscious throughout the entire ordeal."

Three times his mouth opened to respond only to hang there and snap shut as his mind struggled to process the information, working so furiously that his wife might as well have spoken in Latin. "P-pardon me?"

"What do you think this tireless search for a replacement was about," she grinned. "I took the liberty of booking a doctor's appointment tomorrow for a consultation and I suggest you take advantage of his expertise to brush up on your biology. And, ummm, not to insult you dear, but after observing your reaction today…you might want to clear your schedule. I imagine you'll have many questions."

* * *

I've reached that point in my life where everyone around me is having babies. I, personally, am not quite ready to give up my consitent sleeping schedule for such a messy little miracle. Single life, baby.


	22. Benevolence

Nothing (c) me

Prompt: Injury

This Arrow is slightly more emotionaly detached than what the movie suggests, but it works for this particular story. Hope everyone enjoys!

* * *

To an experienced sailor like Mr. Arrow the turbulence that afternoon was nothing to be concerned with; even when the solar winds reached speeds that the Doctor described as _'jeopardous'_ and the boat began to rock like a bath toy he remained composed and shouted the captain's orders to the fumbling crew. After several minutes the etherium quieted and the Legacy was left to recollect itself. "Is it horrible of me to think that was rather anticlimactic?" His Captain asked, turning to the first mate with an amused grin. Arrow returned the smile but his reply never had a chance to be spoken; a thin cry filtered through the air and for a moment every head on the Legacy turned and twisted trying to find the source. It did not take long for one of the riggers to spot the cabin boy, crumpled by the railing and holding on to a very distorted looking shoulder. Silver was the first to reach the boy; he hovered over his crouched form, speaking words too soft for Arrow to hear, before gently pulling him to his feet and herding him down to the galley. "Oh my, I may have spoken too soon," the man turned as Amelia spoke and was surprised to see concern clouding her regal face. "That injury may prove to be severe."

"It looks like a dislocated shoulder, Captain, nothing more." He reassured her lightly. "The Doctor will throw a fit when he hears," the woman looked over her shoulder to her stateroom where the astronomer had taken refuge during the rocking. "Mr. Arrow, please go and see if you can be of assistance to Mr. Silver and bring back an assessment of Mr. Hawkins." The man nodded respectfully and after ordering the crew to resume their work made his way down from the bridge and into the tight stairwell leading down to the galley. Mr. Hawkins was sitting on a dining bench, holding a small sack of ice against his dislocater shoulder blade; his shirt collar pulled low to expose the already bruising skin. The cook sat on his uninjured side, close and yet not touching, still whispering to him. "Mr. Silver, how is his condition?"

"How do you _think_ it – _aaagrnn_!" Whatever disrespectful comment Mr. Hawkins had planned was interrupted by a groan of pain and he doubled over, breathing heavily. "He's in a way, Mr. Arrow," Silver offered. "Can't hardly move his arm cause of te pain, but he ain't fallen inta shock yet. We best make port and get him ta a hospital." Arrow lumbered over to the cabin boy's trembling figure and casually inspected his shoulder. The skin around his collarbone was pulled taught in a way that would have been grotesque had he not seen this sort of injury dozens of times before. Other than that it was largely unimpressive. "That will not be necessary, Mr. Silver." He commented, ignoring the cook's surprised jolt. "I am more than capable of remedying this."

Mr. Hawkins sprang to his feet with unexpected grace and took several steps away from the first officer. "_Remedying_? What do you – " Again he paused and gasped as a spasm of pain tore through him. "What are you going to do?"

"It's rather simple, your arm will need to be raised to a designated angle," Arrow explained, moving his hands in the motions as he spoke. "And then all it requires is a quick arching movement and - "

"_No_! No way!" The boy barked, retreating backwards and staring at Arrow's large hands with muted terror. "My arm is hanging by a thread and you wanna twist it around more!" Immediately Mr. Silver stood and moved behind the boy. "Mr. Arrow, I don't mean ta argue wit' ya but te boy's in pain as it is. Can't we take him – " Arrow's frown cut the cook's request down before it left his throat. "You know very well, Mr. Silver, that this injury is not remotely serious enough to warrant an unscheduled port dock."

"If ye'll grant me one of te longboats I'll take him meself." At this Mr. Hawkins turned to face the cyborg and Arrow saw his chance. He lashed out, grabbing the startled cabin boy from behind and forcefully rotating his arm in a practiced movement. By the time the young man cried out in pain it was already over; his shoulder snapped back into its socket with a satisfying _pop_ and Arrow released the trembling boy just as quickly as he had caught him up. "As I said," he grumbled proudly as Mr. Hawkins slid to his knees. "A simple remedy." The cabin boy did not speak and barely moved as he gripped the repaired arm; even the cook was silent, staring at Arrow with thinly veiled repulsion and bewilderment. Arrow suddenly felt uncomfortable in the overwhelming silence and gravely cleared his throat. "The turbulence has placed us behind schedule…Return to your duties immediately." Without giving himself a chance to look back at the boy kneeling on the floor Arrow turned and made for the stairs that would lead him out of the suffocating galley. He heard it as he climbed the second step, the small restrained choke of someone who was trying, and failing, not to sob. "Come 'ere, Jimbo. It's alrigh'…."

The first mate did not stop; he strode out onto the open deck, hardly paying attention as Delbert Doppler ran past and practically flew down the stairs to check on his ward. He had never been so pleased to see the inside of Amelia's stateroom. "Ah, Arrow!" His Captain purred as he entered. "I imagine you passed the Doctor on your way back. I kept him for as long as I could but as you can imagine he was quite distressed. Speaking of which, how is Mr. Hawkins?"

"I adjusted the arm," he answered gravely. "It will heal with no complications."

"Yes, but _how is he_?"

Arrow blinked. "I…I don't understand, ma'am." Amelia's stare was almost sad and as she shook her head his mind returned to the boy on the galley floor. For several moments he stood by her polished oak desk, a silent monument, before drawing in a short breath. "May I speak openly, Captain?"

"I doubt I could stop you, so you might as well." She teased, but the comment went unheard. "With all due respect, I don't believe that Mr. Hawkins should remain in Mr. Silver's charge."

Her ears instantly pricked up at his words. "Is he tormenting the boy?"

"The opposite, ma'am, I believe he coddles the lad. His reaction to Mr. Hawkins' injury was unprofessional to say the least."

"What about after you repaired the shoulder?"

"Equally unsuitable, Captain." He grumbled, thinking about the blatant disgust smeared on the cook's face. "Mm-hmm." Arrow glanced over at the seated woman as she hummed, her hands folded in front of her delicate mouth. "And tell me Mr. Arrow, how did Mr. Hawkins react?" The man stumbled over his own tongue, remembering the child's fallen form and the quiet sounds that had chased him from the galley. His mind knew what to say but the words dripped down and disappeared before they could reach his mouth, leaving him standing there like a gaping bowsprit figure. Amelia nodded and lowered her hands. "Arrow, you are my dearest friend and as _deplorable_ as I find Mr. Silver to be I believe you can learn something from him." Arrow did not try to hide his shock. "Now, please go ask Mr. Hawkins how he is doing."

"My apologies, Captain, but, - "

"That is an order!" The felinid snapped with mock authority. "I want you to ask James directly how he is doing, and what's more I want you to _listen_. Do it before the first watch round tonight. That will be all, thank you."

* * *

"Silver, just give me the freaking mop!"

The two men stood chest to chest in the galley, the smaller boy fighting to reach around Silver's broad form and reach the mop held securely behind his back. He was no match with his sore arm, however, and was easily kept at bay by the cyborg's flesh hand. "Ye need ta rest t'at arm, Jimbo – it's been over an hour and ye can't even move it yet; ye ain't near enough ready ta start doin' chores. Now I told ya ta take te day off and ya best well listen!"

"And Arrow told me to get back to work!" Jim snapped, making another awkward lunge for the mop. The man effortlessly pushed him away with his stomach and the boy hissed in anger. "_Silver!_"

"Tell ya w'at," Silver said and held the mop high over his head, the mechanical hand extending unnaturally far. "Why don' ya see if ya can reach usin' t'at bum arm if ye want it t'at bad."

"Tell _you_ what! Why don't you see if you can stick that mop up your –" Suddenly the familiar sound of heavy footsteps echoed throughout the room and Jim groaned. "Looks like he came back for my other arm…"

"Hush, lad." Silver ordered not unkindly and subtly hid the mop behind his back as Arrow's intimidating from appeared from the stairwell, his pristine red coat shining brightly. The mountainous man glanced around the cramped galley and immediately his dark eyes focused on the cabin boy; his arm twitched in pain as Jim threw his own gaze to the floor. "A word, Mr. Hawkins."

"Yeah…Sir?" He continued quickly. The memory of Arrow's attack lingered in his mind, his rough hands grabbing Jim the moment he turned his back. "I – I'm about to start on my chores…" Arrow's hand raised and Jim couldn't stop himself from jumping back into Silver's stomach. He heard the cook chuckle and he blushed as he realized the first mate was only waving his hand in a silencing motion. "That is not what concerns me…I simply wanted to…" The man trailed off and began looking around the galley, searching for some invisible figure hidden within the room. "Sir?" Jim prompted.

"How are you feeling?"

Jim faltered, exchanging a glance with Silver who looked just as surprised and confused as he felt. "Huh?"

"Your arm, how is it?"

"It..It's okay now." Had Jim hit his head on the railing too? It was much easier to believe he was developing a concussion than to accept that the steadfast first mate was standing in front of him and asking how he _felt_. A small nudge from Silver brought Jim back and he bitterly added what the cyborg had coached him to say earlier. "Thanks for fixing my shoulder and I'm sorry for yelling, sir." Even though Silver huffed in satisfaction the apology seemed to make Arrow even more nervous. He stared at the ceiling or the floor or the tables, anywhere as long as his eyes did not fall on Jim. "I suppose my approach was a little…forceful. I apologize if I inadvertently caused you more pain."

Yeah, he was _definitely_ growing a concussion, or at the least some sort of mental breakdown. "Thank you, sir…I – " Before he could offer another word the large man dipped his head and grumbled under his breath. "I'm pleased to hear of your progress. Mr. Silver, please continue to look after the boy until he is fully recuperated."

"Aye, Mr. Arrow." Silver agreed but the alien was already practically running for the stairs. "Oh! Sir," the cook cried after his back. "I know yer orders were ta get Jimbo back at work, but I was hopin' ta give him te rest of te day ta rest…"

"Fine!" Arrow barked without turning and flew up the stairs. Jim stared for several seconds at the stairwell after he had disappeared. "I'm awake, right?" He finally asked, turning to look up at the grinning cyborg. "I mean, I'm not unconscious on the deck am I?" Silver chuckled and ran his calloused hand through Jim's hair. "If ye are we must both be sharin' te same dream. T'at or yer tears broke te man's heart."

"Shut up!" Jim shoved the heavy man with his good shoulder. "And don't you dare tell anyone I cried! If Scroop hears about that he'll never let me live it down!" Silver laughed and gently tapped the mop handle on Jim's forehead. "I won't tell a soul, Jimbo, as long as ye don't go around havin' more brawls with ta railing! Ye only got one shoulder left and I don't t'ink poor Mr. Arrow can take anymore of ya getting' hurt."

* * *

End


End file.
